#Claude x Fem!reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ashesbreadandbutter · 2 months

Text

Douma + Claude x Fem! Reader Snippet || One's True Nature

So I spun a wheel for a cross fic type of thing. Did it a couple times so if you want to read the others follow and follow my progress.

Anyway, the two characters are obviously Claude Faustus (Black Butler) and Lord Douma (Demon Slayer). I'm having fun with this already.

Think I'll add cross fics to my commission list.

Douma + Claude x Reader

What it'll include: Spanking, biting, marking, breeding, dom and sub, choking and maybe a few others.

Goal : 10k words

It's been many long years.

Many years since he was first beaten, destroyed by an archenemies who he had spent so much time on for such a silly reason. Said reason being some brat's soul because who was he without as the creature that he is.

Claude lurks in the shadows. His form is different now from his previous life though not vastly so. He's of a toned build, with smooth, pearly white skin except for his hands and feet which were made up of claws. His body isn't the only thing that has changed but so has his location.

These weren't the streets of London, lanterns and art lingered in every which was like a colorful dream as humans below seemed to have a celebration of sorts; drinking alcohol, laughing, and whatever else.

To be fair, Claude has a hate for it. The loud noises, the colors, but ever since he's come back he's been struggling with a deep hunger, one that he hadn't been forced to deal with previously when he was in Europe, one that seems to lure him into more primal needs and sensations.

It's annoying, the way that he's never been allowed to show this side of himself, to express his hunger like this… when he had been practically trapped in his last deal. He remembers the days, serving that young brat day in and day out and even with how hungry he was he was forced to stay in control, to tame his needs, just for him to lose control in the end anyway.

Claude could admit that he didn't regret it, crushing that boy's… Alois’s, head in his strong hands until it seemed to pop like a grape and spill blood all over him.

Even with how calm Claude presented in many cases back then of course he still had his emotions and when it came to Alois all he could do was feel annoyance, dread, anger… and Claude had put up with it until he simply couldn't. He could also admit that he paid the price, going against his arch enemy… Sebastian, even going out of his way to try and steal the other's demon's prey. His death… as humbling as it was to say, was one that was bound to happen and maybe Claude had done all of that just to end the suffering. As demons as he and others could do was live as they are and with Alois Claude had been needy, starved. What else was he to do but to go after what he could which has been that stupid, idiotic boy… though, here… it seemed different.

Very different.

Claude could smell the scents in the air, he's not as strong as he used to be but he seems now that he has the potential to do so now and such much more.

He was… free. And freedom has never tasted better.

There's so much food around but as the creature he is, the last thing he wants is a corn dog or poe of some sort… he wants blood, meat… and a lot of it.

One scent in particular seems to jump out at him suddenly and Claude doesn't hesitate to snap his gaze over in the same direction as if to follow such a smell. It's fruity, sweet,... Tempting and Claude feels a rush of heat run through him when he locates the owner.

She's beautiful, as soft and sweet as she looks and dressed in sine silks. Claude hadn't cared much about the history of this place previously, the scenery, the festivals, the fashion trends but the second his eyes landed on her they stuck. She seems to order herself a snack and as Claude stands from his squat and decides to silently get closer Claude can't help but admire her. It's her sweet face, his soft skin, her feminine figure and if Claude was human his heart would be rushing.

He is a demon again yes but never had he felt like this and if he had it must've been a feeling that had become long forgotten to him. Never once had he felt quite as… warm and hot like this over some random human woman and he isn't exactly sure what it is that makes him feel so drawn to her but it has him feeling like he was having a hard time keeping control of himself.

It's interesting how difficult this new life of his was, how different it was from his old one. Never once had he felt a craving like this, with Alois, or even Ciel… it's like he quite literally wants to jump down there and tackle her to the ground, jump on her as if he was some sort of leopard, an animal, a beast and she… some sort of deer, prey. Outside of his rebirth he doesn't know anything about this new life he's been giving but what he does know is that suddenly he feels… hot. He wants this woman and while he still isn't sure what for he's confident in his choice.

He needed to get closer, if not to know this woman than to touch her… caress her skin with both his hands and his lips and maybe he'd proceed by… keeping her, like some cute little pet at his side. Maybe if she agreed to stay by him and at his side he wouldn't kill her immediately.

She walks along the streets and he follows like a lingering shadow as he tries to think about the best way to go about this. As she now sits at a bench by herself he settles on the building just behind her, looking down on her with bright eyes. He's still thinking and it's only when his eyes snap aside and land on an approaching figure that Claude feels like he has in fact wasted to much time.

Whoever this guest was he was tall, broad and Claude could admit that the man's physical appearance was rather… impressive, distracting even. He wears a kimono just as everyone else has and even with such clean and gentle looking garbs Claude can practically smell how strong this male is. It's intimidating and Claude had come to an understanding that in this life demons in fact had ranks. Of course they always had but this was so different, so new and even though another other demon would have probably scurried away, Claude lingered even with the rush of tingles he feels race up his spine.

He proceeds by watching the two, the only prominent features he's kept from his last life was his bright golden eyes which now watched the two figures. The male greets her, bowing his head to the woman before reaching out to take her hand and with a little giggle she gives it to him after her flashes a charming smile. Claude suddenly feels a bit more… annoyed, his eyes narrowing slightly at the scene because though he knows nothing about either one of these two and probably couldn't care less to do so but something about this guest… this man was reminding him of…

Sebastian.

It's only then that her laughs rings through the air and Claude clears his mind to focus again only to look down and freeze when bright eyes are looking back up to him.

A second passes where they stare at each other for a moment and then something seems to burst within Claude's chest. He holds the other demons gaze and the rush of emotion he feels makes him feel both ignited and frantic, as if that the moment their eyes connected with each other had been a deal of some sort all on its own.

Claude reels back before he can help himself, jerking back and blinking owlishly. There's a rushing in his chest that makes him reach a shaky hand up and clutch his heart.

Now. What the fuck was that?

Claude wasn't sure at all but after a moment of silence he finds himself wanting… more.

It's like something had woke up in him, jerking awake in fury and Claude was s man who would sit here and lie and say that a man couldn't possibly win his heart but the way his was racing in his chest suddenly made him feel many, many things.

“Do you…happen to come here often?” A smooth and charming voice suddenly rings out over the sea of others and something tells Claude he shouldn't and yet… he decides to peak back over the length and as he thought, the man was now speaking. He looks at the woman with a fond smile, reaching out a hand to her and she giggles softly as she does so, humming as he seems to raise her hand to his lips and lightly brush his soft lips over her knuckles. “I'll admit that I haven't seen you around here much.” He continues and she hums.

“What's your name pretty? I must know it so I never forget.” He continues as she smiles.

“Y/n. You can just call me y/n.” She answers him and her voice is so soft, so smooth and Claude finds himself leaning in to hear more of it as if he couldn't get enough. The man makes a noise of acknowledgement while Claude personally saves such into in his head and as the man moves to sit beside her, his hip pressing against her own, he finally responds with his own name.

“You may call me Douma-Sama. Everyone calls me it.” Douma chuckles but something about it sends a shiver running up Claude's spine when he hears it as if the man's name was a curse all on its own. Not only that but… their eyes connected again, his and Douma 's as the other demon looks from the wan to him from the corner of his eyes.

Douma-Sama.

It was an interesting name, Claude could give him that but something about the way the man had said it, practically purring it out but each syllable and everything was enough to make Claude's cheeks feel…warm.

Claude reaches a hand up to inspect his face and soon comes to the realization that he was lightly blushing. His cheeks a light pink and he's spooked into silence, even when he and Sebastian battled as much as they did in his previous life never had Claude allowed himself to blush this easily with the man even when that's what Sebastian clearly wanted out of him. He had always waited until he could get alone where he could be stuck with his thoughts all of his own for as long as needed, and maybe he had many, many fantasies and ones he tended to act up on and wasn't exactly sure what it was but just as Sebastian had, this demon… Douma-Sama, had managed to piqued Claude's interest.

TBC~

- A

7 notes · View notes

rain-and-a-nice-nap · 2 years

Text

Hello! This is a continuation on the childhood au, but you could probably just read it on its own if you wanted. I’ll probably make a part two at some point. It’s kinda edited, kinda proof read, gender neutral and shouldn’t have reader physical descriptions. Wasn’t meant to be this long, but I initially wrote it wonky so I’m splitting it into parts. 2,666 words, please let me know if you have constructive criticism lmao I don’t do a lot of creative writing.

It started with a bump.

You were getting your lunch in the dining hall, planning to go sit with your Blue Lions afterward. Filled with anticipation for the delicious-smelling food that you were piling onto your plate, you had no awareness of your surroundings.

Behind you was a group from the Golden Deer house. If you were listening you would hear that they had just begun bickering about which food on the menu today was healthier. But you hadn’t, you were unaware. Focused on other things.

Unlike you, however, was a green-eyed boy who had been dying to talk to you standing just a few steps away, at the head of the group. He was always aware of his surroundings and the way he expressed his every thought, more than most would give him credit for.

“No, no. The beast meat Teppanyaki is surely better for bulk than anything that you were suggesting! Though I can’t deny that the flavor is quite good.” It was a polite argument, to be sure. It was mostly between Leonie and Raphael, though Claude couldn’t be sure which had spoken, now that he was setting his plan in motion.

“Woah, Woah,” he chuckled, deliberately taking steps backward as he was speaking, “Now, I feel like-!” He cut himself off with a gasp, as he pulled a little too good of a fake trip, now actually teetering backward into you.

You had felt a shoulder hit yours and spun around and caught him just in time, your face showing genuine surprise, and his face lightly mirroring yours. Luckily, you had just set down your plate so you could grab a glass of water and some silverware and had free hands.

“Hey, thanks, stranger!” Your attention re-focused on the smirk that your dear friend replaced his shock with.

Helping him stand straight once again, you huffed a light chuckle, practically choking on your emotions. You caught on to what was going on and took a moment before neutralizing yourself and your facial expression, despite the emotions running through you at seeing your friend so close.

“Sure! You’re the golden deer house leader, right? I think I saw you at the practice battle just last week.” You said, desperate to form a connection again, “with your talent with the bow, and your professor's undeniable tactical skill, you might be quite the challenge at the battle of the eagle and lion!”

This caught the full attention of his friends, who had been watching the interaction as soon as their house leader had fallen onto you. Leonie perked up as she figured out where she had recognized you, almost pushing past Claude.

“That’s where I recognize you! Y’know, you were pretty good yourself! You were also there for the bandit fight on that excursion!“ She remarked excitedly, retelling how she watched you hold your ground amidst the bandits before most of them tailed the house leaders. She began to recall how surprised she was to hear that they had been rescued by Jeralt and their newly dear professor.

With the “oohs” and “aahs” of the other group members and the telling of their own stories, you were invited to join them for dinner. Claude sat in front of you, the gleam in his eye ever twinkling as he winked at you, and tapped your boot with his own under the table. Both of you are overjoyed to see each other again, both pretending the joy is coming from the conversation at hand.

Then a hug.

One of the things that you and Claude did for years was take a nap together. Sometimes that was just how he would get his sleep in. Occasionally you would have sleepovers so that he would get a full night's rest on the rough days. Even if you weren’t together napping, just knowing that you were within walking distance had always helped to ease his mind when he needed it to.

Another one of your things was goofy hugs. This started at the beginning of your friendship and was one of the ways that Claude could subtly make sure you still wanted him there. You had run into each other in a corridor and he had an odd smile on his face, one that you now know means he wants something. It was a silly hug, one that you barked a laugh during before you both headed off in your respective directions to perform your palace chores.

It had been a few days since the group dinner, in which you would run into some of them and share a greeting. One of those folks is Claude. On this particular day, you were going opposite ways in the courtyard.

The gold of his cape caught your eye as you turned into the courtyard. Holding back the depth of your joy, you gave him a smile and a wave. One that he returned with glittering eyes and his odd smile.

“What do you want?” You laughed stopping in front of each other. He shared your laugh as he opened his arms to you, knowing that he would be welcomed by yours.

“How dare you accuse me,” he said in jest, “a friend can’t just stop and say hello to another?” You barked a laugh and gave in, walking further towards him and embracing him with a tight hug.

“Not when you make faces like that, Goldie.” He scoffed at the name and began to squeeze you. Now he had you.

He let out a huff as he picked you up and spun you around. You had more muscle than last you met that was for sure, he made a note to lift more in his time here.

You weren’t expecting him to do that and yelped, hands flying to his shoulders and eyes wide as he spun you. He hadn’t been expecting you to do that either and began to laugh as he set you down, laughter getting stronger by the second.

The few students that were in the courtyard had their interest piqued by the sound of howling laughter. If they turned and looked, they saw a deer folding over in laughter and the flustered lion he was depending on for stability staving off the urge to laugh too.

—

People who often spent their days at Garreg Mach might have noted seeing their very own golden deer and a blue lion around the academy together from time to time. Not always, as they were their own people, but enough to shake their heads and laugh at their antics. “These two couldn’t have known each other for more than a few months, but it seems like it could’ve been years!” They would joke.

Of course, you had, but they didn’t need to know that. Now that you’d built a reputation as infamous goofballs together, and your respective identities apart, you could begin being closer. First, there was spending late nights studying at the library, then moving the studying outdoors and getting back to having your forest naps together. Finally, it was lounging around in each other’s rooms turned into occasional secret sleepovers.

Sometimes, Claude goes to your room. While he wishes you were there too, sometimes you are not. In those times he clings to the comfort of your smell, and how it reminds him of home, and all the good outcomes of his goals. He thinks about how he has someone who truly knows him and what he wants and who supports him still. Wants to be there for him. Still thinks that he’s a good person. He thinks about how maybe some of those traits are showing up in the likes of the professor as well, and he feels less alone.

On this day, that very professor gave their golden deer a task. The professor had begun to look towards the blue lion house for recruitment. While they already had recruited a few, their sights were set on you. You were, after all, quite the combat talent. Typically, our dear professor would invite you to lunch, but today they wanted tea and you were nowhere to be found. Usually, this is all good and fine, but the professor wanted to ask if you would assist the Golden Deer for the month.

It was the weekend before the new month and Claude planned to nap for quite a bit of it. He finished his breakfast and stretched as he made his way to the dorms when the professor put him up to the task. So, he sauntered over to your dorm and flopped onto your bed, ready to nap until you got here and pretending his stomach didn’t flip when his favorite smell reached him. It was an efficient plan, really.

Until he started having a dream with you in it.

————-

Originally, you weren't supposed to even be in Fodlan. You were to see him again when his mission to unite Fodlan and Almyra bore fruit. He was pretty insistent on it, to the point where he completely avoided you for a month and a half. That was until you finally got a hint of what was going on and cornered him on his way to one of his chores. It was a long talk filled with tears and heartache. To make it worse, admittedly he didn't know how much longer he could keep it up, because napping together had become your thing and sometimes his source of sleep.

So, after conversing with his Fodlan people, the plan was to send you to Faerghus a few months before he would go to Fodlan, and you would have to find your way into the officer's academy. Of course, there were many contingency plans, and that wasn't even the original plan, but you came in and told everyone to have faith in your abilities, and you stuck to your guns. Your way would be much less of a hassle to everyone, and you already knew how stressed they all were. Adding more stress for them by making them figure out your future was not going to be one of those stresses, not if you could help it.

It was only after sparse and vague letters and finally meeting up with you at the officer’s academy did he find out what happened to you.

After you had said your long and heartbreaking goodbye to Claude, you were snuck into Fodlan on a ship that first stopped at an Almyran port for supplies. Their destination was the empire, but they had to get around the Kingdom first. You lived as a crewmate for about a month before you left the ship and set out into the freezing woods of Faerghus, where you fell ill because you came from the polar opposite climate.

You had bumbled through the woods, vision darkening, as you heard the roar of some giant wolf that you had caught a glimpse of maybe a day before. You really hadn't intended for this, you figured that maybe if you had read up a bit more, this could be been avoided. When you turned to check behind you, you came to see the large wolf was only a few paces behind you.

In the absence of your hazy vision, you had shuffled into the root of a grand tree. Your attention was pulled forward as your body was pulled to the ground. You couldn’t even feel the pain because you were so cold. Rolling onto your back with closed eyes and a shiver, fate was accepted, whatever it may be.

Upon this acceptance, fate did indeed act, as you had heard a yell and the sound of a weapon making contact with its target. The snarling of the beast followed, with several more shouts from the person before you.

Unbeknownst to you at the time this was to become the mother of your Fodlan family. She was quite strong. One has to have such strength to survive so deep in Faerghus. She would call out to you, pleading with you not to sleep, as she carried you home to her wife and several of their kids.

Their kindness brought you guilt when you had to lie to them upon waking. A sympathetic, “oh no!” Or two as you told them a story you had come up with during your time on the ship. Your family lived on the outskirts of the region, but a legion of bandits ascended upon the town and set fire to it all, and your family sent you out of your charred home to escape into the woods. But you had a friend from home who had just gone off to the officer's academy, so you had planned to meet up with your only neighbor that lived by joining the semester that overlaps his.

Claude had once brought you to a theatre, where you watched a play together and the two of you proceeded to spend months learning how to fake cry. He wasn’t so good at it, but it became a tactic that you used here. Again, you felt bad, truly you did, especially when they pitched in some money after you had worked several jobs to afford the officer's academy. They had taken up a few jobs for you too, and every time it comes to mind your eyes water.

They were kind people and truly hold a place in your heart. So much, so that you write a letter to them at least once a month, especially before missions.

———-

Only, in Claude’s dream, upon reaching Faerghus from Almyra, your fake back story became true in these later times. In his dream, upon trying to run from a camp invaded by bandits, you were grabbed and there were too many for you to fight on your own.

But you were alone, and out of his reach. Crying out as they dragged you to the duke of the alliance’s doorstep. You had been figured out after being held by these bandits and brought before the hand of judgment for crossing the border. He couldn’t expose himself to save you, and even if he wanted to, he knew you wouldn’t let him. He cares for you deeply, and you are his everyday priority, but he can’t put you above his goal. You both knew that.

Fear and adrenaline pulse through him as he thinks maybe he could figure out something else, he couldn’t let this happen to you. He can’t lose you! But before he could even begin strategizing you were sentenced to public execution. His stomach dropped, and his head hurt. This is wrong, this can’t be happening.

But in front of his wide and teary eyes, there you were. Claude could do nothing but stare as-

You walked into the room and closed the door with your foot which made it slam. Claude jumped and his eyes flew open, wildly looking around the room and processing. He watched as you set down your bags, he supposed that maybe you were out in the shops. His body shakes at the memories his mind came up with. Claude recalls having similar thoughts and dreams before.

A deep-rooted doubt surfaces once again. One that makes him pull on a mask, even in front of you. He fears being caught. He fears that even though you change your hair and words and actions to one that someone from Faerghus would have, they would figure out you had known Claude far longer. This outcome would cause the loss of you and his dreams.

He can’t help but overthink the outcome. His mind screams at him to run from you, keep you away. Keep you safe and his dreams alive.

Even now as you turn and smile at him, with such genuine care, he wants to run even as his heart feels the warmth of your gaze. He wants to go back to pretending he doesn’t know you.

He flashes you a smile, one that he doesn’t use for you. “Hey! Uh, Byleth wants to see you.” He says, getting up from the bed and stretching, trying to stay cool so that you remain none the wiser. Claude smiles once more before he leaves your dorm.

You still your movements, shocked that that just happened.

#claude von riegan imagines #claude von reigen #claude von riegan x reader #Claude von riegan #gender neautral reader #Claude von riegan x gn! reader #Claude von riegan x gn reader #fem reader #male reader #angst #reader insert #fe3h

55 notes · View notes

angelsforthenight · 3 months

Text

MRS. AND MRS. SMITH — abby anderson x fem!reader

ways you can help gaza 🇵🇸

do not buy tlou2 remastered!

a/n: this is way more inspired by the mr and mrs smith series (2024) not the 2005 one!!! this explains why they’re wives :3

you’re an assassin along with your assigned partner/wife, abby anderson. fed up with her toxic behaviour, you’re pleased when the mission is centred around you seducing a man for murderous motives. why? well, because you know it’ll get under abby’s skin. little did you know, things would blow over way more than you thought it would.

cw: mdni, owen feature🤮🤮, long fic, kinda slow-burn ig?, femme fatale, arranged marriage couple, kinda toxic relationship, violence, mention of blades, car sex, mean!abby, bratty!reader, dom!abby, degrading, bdsm, ass-smacking, finger-fucking, cursing, jealous!abby, hair pulling, dry-humping, finger-sucking, choking, rough sex, teasing, squirting.

“short brown hair, rugged beard. got that?” abby’s murmuring voice comes in from the earpiece you’ve got attached. you groan and roll your eyes, wishing you could mute the goddamn thing.

see, any other day, you would’ve loved to hear your wife’s pretty little voice guiding you — her praises when you’d do something right or her degrades if you’d do something wrong both sending shivers down your spine, compelling you to do whatever she wanted.

but not today. today you’re over it. so what do you respond with?

“yeah, i know, anderson. we both got the fucking brief.” you hiss. you know how pissed abby gets whenever you curse at her; so that’s exactly what you do. you relish at the thought of her gritting her teeth, not being able to snap at you in front of all of these people.

that’s right, you two are at a charity gala event. it’s fancy. too fancy to the point where it’s intimidating: glistening chandeliers, artistic decorations and bustling people wearing glamorous attire. you and abby needed to blend in with the crowd so not only are you two dressed smartly for the occasion but are also split up. not that you’re complaining. you’re sick of her. sick of her petulance whenever you’d get glorified by the agency instead of her, sick of how sometimes she can be so simple-minded, sick of how, at points, she lacks at making you feel loved.

your job is to take out an owen moore, for unforeseen reasons. you never question what the agency tells you to do, neither does abby.

you’re planning to lure him in an concealed area with your enticing charisma, make him believe you’re going to sleep with him before slicing him dead with your blade. you prowl through the many people, scanning the area with a keen eye to find him. claude debussy plays as background music, taming your harrowing nerves. killing is never easy.

“found him yet?” abby sighs.

“please don’t distract me.” there’s way too many people and it’s beginning to stress you out. what if you never find him? failing the mission is the last thing you wanna do.

“i’m getting bored. plus, small talk with strangers pisses me off.” she complains.

“not my goddamn problem.” you retort, the ends of your tight-fitting dress flailing against your legs as you pick up the pace, worrying if there’s not enough time, worrying if he’s even here in the first place.

“literally what is your problem? acting extra fuckin’ snobby tonight...”

your eyebrows knit together. abby always finds a way to get under your skin.

“let’s not fucking start—“ you’re about to snap and make yourself look like a fool in front of all of these people until somebody accidentally bumps into you: spilling his drink all over your dress. great!

“oh shit. sorry, i didn’t mean that.” you hear a man’s voice as you stare down at your ruined dress in disbelief. you slowly glance up at the culprit; only to find the noted brown hair and rugged beard staring right back at you. owen moore.

despite your worked up embarrassment and your extreme annoyance, you manage to flash a smile.

“it’s okay, but... you do realise you owe me now right?” you bat your eyelashes, hoping you don’t look silly.

“and what’s that?” owen chuckles, rubbing the back of his head and making immense eye contact. he’s already flirting back, you think. this is about to be so fucking easy.

with a few drinks, owen’s already tipsy and you’re leading him to the vast room. you make him believe you’re just as woozy; stumbling and giggling away. you take advantage of his obliviousness: your hand brushing against the slit of your dress, fingers cupping the wooden handle of the blade in the garter wrapped around your thigh. whilst he laughs and babbles nonsense, you carefully trace the edge of the blade — feelings of excitement rushing to the surface. regardless of the fact that killing is never easy, it’s also never not exhilarating.

you’re about to fully whip out the blade until owen decides to be bold: setting his slobbery hands against the small of your back and trying to lean in for a kiss.

“woah.” you feign a grin, pulling his hands away. “we go at my pace.”

“aww… please?” he mumbles, trying to seem like an adorable puppy but instead making it look disgusting. this is sad, you think. you try to grab your knife again but he’s now grabbing your arms; desperate for a fruitless smooch.

“come on… don’t play hard to get.” he growls, his sudden aggression catching you a little off guard. no need for stress, you know what to do. your knee prepares itself to kick hard in between his legs until somebody’s arm suddenly emerges from behind, wrapping around his neck and squeezing hard.

“what—“ you breathe in bewilderment, eyes widening. despite owen choking and uselessly clawing at abby’s arm for escape, her gaze stays intently trained on yours; a death stare. it’s unnerving.

it doesn’t take long for owen to turn cold and slack, eyes rolling to the back of his head. abby lets him go, but not without cracking his neck first, and you watch as he flops onto the floor.

“what the fuck, abby…” you mutter, palming a frustrated hand across your face. “where the hell did you even come from?”

“there’s doors.” she tilts her head towards the backdoor behind her. you hadn’t even noticed it. your eyes travel back to her; irresistibly ogling at the black suit clinging to her body, complimenting her form. you almost forget you’re supposed to be mad at her.

the blonde chuckles wryly, a petty exhale. “you starin’? assumed pussy boys were more your type.”

“real fucking mature.” you snarl. “i had him. i was this close to killing him, abby.”

“you were taking too long.” abby shrugs, condescendingly pouting. you grit your teeth.

“jealousy? really? grow up.”

“at least i watch where i’m going. nice dress, the wet splotch is a nice touch, really.” she slanders, narrowing her eyes. you scoff, trying to pretend as if that dig didn’t offend you.

“you’re a fucking child. help me with the body.”

you two leave the building with ease, pretending as if owen is a friend that’s had too much to drink, wrapping his arms around the both of your shoulders and leading him to your car. abby opens the boot and you two push him inside. you two will decide on how deal with the body later.

for now, you’re sat on the passenger’s seat whilst abby drives, the two of you salty and quiet. abby’s driving way too fast; her hand gripping the steering wheel like her life depends on it. she’s obviously fuming.

“can you slow down?” you glare at her.

“you owe me… i mean, who even says that?” abby grumbles, ignoring your request.

“a lot of people do. now slow down, we don’t wanna attract attention from police knowing there’s a dead body back there.”

“not to mention that you’ve had an attitude since last night! the way you were flirting with that oliver guy? or whatever the fuck his name was, had to be on purpose. to spite me.”

abby starts driving even faster, increasing your stress. “owen.” you correct, “you’re so self absorbed!” you continue to beg for her to slow down.

“he’s, like, the embodiment of revolting too. don’t even get me started at the way he was trying to force himself on you. i should’ve put a bullet in his brain.” abby rattles on, pure jealousy oozing from her tone.

“you were definitely enjoying it too. i know you were.” she turns her head to look at you, not paying attention to the road.

“abby. abby!” you scream as abby almost runs through a poor family trying to cross the road.

“fuck.” abby murmurs as she swerves messily, just in the nick of time, steering into a deserted field. the two of you are out of breath from the fright, hearts racing from the adrenaline. abby rests her head on the wheel, letting out a long sigh.

“just what the hell is the matter with you?” you scold, “all this shit over a mission? are you serious?” abby’s lack of response leads you to continue yelling at her.

“of course we’re going to have to flirt with our targets now and then! the fuck happened to your professionalism? if i had known you’d be acting like this then i would’ve never—“

“why didn’t you kiss him?” abby raises her head to look up at you, her face blank. you blink, a little taken aback by the unexpected question.

“i…” you look away. you’re not exactly up for abby knowing that you couldn’t kiss him because of her. “where even are we anyway?”

“nice try. since you’re so professional, why didn’t you kiss him? he clearly wanted to. you could’ve easily killed him then.” the corner of abby’s lips arch up into a smirk — the familiar smug look of hers that never fails to get you weak.

“for someone who’s had so much to say just a second ago…” she leans in a little, arm resting against your headrest, “…you’re awfully quiet.” her voice is hushed down to a soft whisper, and you swear you’re beginning to feel a little lightheaded.

“look, abby, you’re my wife… so…” you mumble in response to her pressing question, avoiding eye contact. abby chuckles, loosening her tie. here comes the floodgates.

“don’t play dumb and pretend as if the agency didn’t arrange that.” her finger presses against the dome light of the car; illuminating your embarrassed face. just what she wanted to see.

“you’ve been enjoying yourself, seeing me all jealous like this. you liked playing femme fatale, hmm?” her finger slowly twists itself around a strand of your hair, before she yanks a handful, forcing your head closer. you wince, eyes clenched shut. your cunt decides to flex too — reminding you that she’s got a mind of her own, and that she finds being in an empty field like this, in abby’s car, pretty fucking hot.

“let’s face it…” abby whispers, so close that you can feel her breath tickling your ear, shooting heavy tingles down your body.

“you want me so bad it hurts.” her eyes drift down to your thighs that are starting to shift uncomfortably in your seat. it’s beginning to ache down there and it seems like abby’s aware of that. you can’t help it. after all, abby sitting so close: loose strands of hair framing her face, unfastened tie and darkened eyes fixed on you, feels so good that it’s suffocating.

you squirm a little and abby grins, her fingers still laced in your hair. her grip slightly tightens as she licks her lips. she looks hungry.

“maybe what hurts is your fingers in my hair.” you quip, though your voice is a little shaky.

“maybe you need to fix your attitude.” abby retorts, “like, seriously, pipe down… you’re probably soaking down there.” she snickers, right on the money.

“fuck you.” you glare at her, gauging her reaction. you want to believe you’re saying this out of sheer anger for what went down tonight, but deep down, you know that’s not the case. in reality, you just want to get under abby’s skin. it’s what you’ve been craving since the beginning; to get her pissed.

you wipe the pleased look off of abby’s face, which is now replaced with a frown. your heart pounds with anticipation: so much so that your chest faintly heaves, lips parted.

abby’s eyes wander to your lips and in one swift movement, she pulls you in; pressing her lips against yours. you’re quick to kiss her back, the sweetness of her mouth sealing yours. fervent can’t even begin to explain the way you two are kissing. akin to wild animals, small muffled groans escape the both of you.

desperation is thick in the confined air of the car, as abby pulls away and shrugs her blazer off. you stare up at her.

“hurry… with your slow-ass.” you whine.

“watch your fucking mouth. c’mere.” abby commands. you naturally do as she says and she begins to unzip your dress — not without making sure to go deliberately slow.

“why do you have to be so mean?” you sigh, burying your face in the crook of her neck.

“oh, trust me… i’m only gonna be meaner.” she warns whilst planting gentle kisses on your neck. you’ve always admired abby for her ability to vary from being sour to tender in seconds. little did you know, the peppered kisses on your neck served as a prior apology to how cruel she’s going to treat you in a second.

once everything is off, abby marvels at your body. like a painting in an art gallery, she makes sure to pay attention to even the minuscule details of your body. it’s her favourite thing in the entire world.

“turn around.” abby mutters, her eyes hazy; voice bleeding with lust.

“what?”

“just do it.”

you hesitantly do as she says. abby beams: finding your weak resistance amusing yet is also excited to break you.

“now… bend over.” she coos, clearly poking fun.

you shoot her a glare, cheeks flushed. “what am i, your dog?”

“don’t piss me off.”

you glare at her for a few seconds longer before sighing, reluctantly bending over.

“arching that back and everything… wooow.” abby teases, “and to think i haven’t even touched you yet.”

“oh, just fuck off, abby…” you complain, the embarrassment beginning to overwhelm you.

“what was that?”

“i said fuck—“ but you’re cut off by a yelp when abby brings her palm down flat against your ass. you flinch violently; very, very taken off guard.

“mm? didn’t quite hear you. repeat yourself.” abby taunts, smacking you again. you grunt and flinch yet again, feeling the sting of her slap coarse through your body. abby’s humiliating you, milking every last drop of your embarrassment. the worst thing yet? you’re enjoying this way more than you should be.

“i’m not kidding. speak.” abby commands, showing no signs of mercy. your skin is already starting to gleam red, and your pussy? well, it’s a fucking party down there.

“abby…” you cry, completely under her control. the more she smacks, flesh recoiling under her palm, the more your head goes blank.

“go on babe… finish what you were saying before.” abby prods. this time, when she smacks you, her fingers grasp the flesh on your ass tightly; watching in delight as her fingertips leave little red marks. you’re trembling like a leaf, both from the pain and the arousal.

see, the thing with abby is that she never likes to let things go. she adores jabbing at you until she gets what she wants.

another smack, this one so hard that you need to press your palms against the window. abby then grips your waist and pulls you way closer; making your ass press against her hips.

“you wanna get fucked?” abby mutters, teasingly bringing your waist back and forth against her hips: hard, playful thrusts. your bare cunt pressing against her crotch is, without a doubt, driving you insane. you frantically nod in response to her question, in which abby replies with latching her hand around your neck; forcing you upright so that your back is now against her chest.

“use your words.”

“y-yes…” tears begin to stream down your face. you’re desperate, yearning for her touch as if it’s a life or death situation.

“so finish what you were saying.” her fingers slightly squeeze around the sides of your neck.

“i-i told you to f-fuck off but i d-didn’t… haa… mean it.” you splutter. the you a while ago would’ve had her mouth agape in horror at your behaviour right now.

“see? that wasn’t so hard, was it?” abby coos, her fingers tracing down your stomach, in between your thighs. long, drawn-out circles are traced on your swollen clit, her fingers pressing just the right amount of pressure. you groan, and abby taps her chin against your shoulder; smirking at how your legs are writhing, desperate for more.

“where’d all your attitude go?” the blonde ridicules. her other hand moves over to your breast, squeezing it, her thumb caressing your nipple. as to the hand working on you, her middle and ring finger brush against your folds; up and down. she’s touching you but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough: abby knows that.

“don’t do this to me, abby…” you exasperate. she lets out a breathy chuckle before flipping you over and setting you down onto the car seat. she reclines it back, eyes yet again fixed on you. you stare up at her with big glossy eyes, your head blank as if you’ve been dumbed down.

abby gloats at how helpless you look, grabbing your face with one hand and squishing your cheeks. “you look stupid.”

“shut up and fuck me.” you mutter in a muffled tone. abby laughs as if what you’ve said was the funniest joke in the entire world. you wonder if abby can feel your cheeks burning up against her palm.

before you know it, abby plows her thick fingers so far inside your cunt that you’d squeal, if it wasn’t for abby’s hand still clenched on your cheeks.

“this what you wanted?” abby purrs, fingers curling up against your g-spot already. you moan, back arching and squirming.

“oh! riiiiight, you can’t speak.” she gloats, playfully shaking your head with her hand. you whine in embarrassment, yet you secretly enjoy how she’s handling you like a doll.

abby’s finger-fucking you rough, wet squelch noises filling up the car. the sound of it is so erotic that it leaves you dizzy, eyes rolling to the back of your head. the blonde releases her grip on your face but not her thumb, that slips inside of your mouth.

“suck.” you mindlessly do as she says, as if you’re brainwashed. you can see abby’s cheeks tint red when you slowly suck her thumb, making sure to keep eye contact.

abby chuckles, looking away. seems like she didn’t think you’d actually do it.

“you’re shy.” you point out. you triumph over the fact that now it’s her turn to be embarrassed, but not for long.

“shut the fuck up.” abby says brusquely, her fingers operating way harder than before; relentlessly pounding against your g-spot. you cry, feeling overwhelmingly good.

that rigid attitude you had a moment ago? now dead and buried. you feel surreal, a series of mewls and sobs leaving your lips.

“nothing smart to say anymore? you look fucking pathetic.” and she’s right. you look like a hot mess. abby smothers your tears all over your face. you mindlessly move your hips, fucking yourself on her fingers. she smirks, loving what she’s seeing. you feel a knot beginning to untie in your stomach, sublime throbs coursing all over your body.

“i’m cumming…” you manage to choke out.

“i know.” abby buries her face in the crook of your neck, and you shiver at the feel of her breath against your skin.

“i’ll decide to be nice and let you finish.”

and that’s your cue. with an ending moan to seal it off, you feel your body tense up, eyes widening. abby leans in and presses her forehead against yours. you squeeze your eyes shut, before your body relaxes. you’re panting like a dog, staring up at abby with foggy and depleted eyes.

“so cute…” she murmurs before cupping your chin and kissing you — this time, soft and tender as opposed to the way she was kissing you before. you feel warm.

so absorbed in each other, you two forget about how you’re in the middle of nowhere and how the body in the car boot needs to be dealt with. for now, you two have something more important to worry about: how you’re gonna clean up the mess you’ve left all over the chair and dashboard.

a/n: you made it !!! thought it’d be funny if the target was owen😭😭 hope u enjoyed reading <3

#abby anderson #abby tlou #abby anderson fanfic #tlou2 smut #tlou2 #wlw #smut #the last of us #abby the last of us #abby anderson smut #abby anderson tlou2 #tlou fanfiction #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x y/n #lesbian

1K notes · View notes

temporaryrose200 · 9 months

Text

✩My Soon-to-be husband✩

✟pairing: Claude X Fem Reader

✟genre: Yandere

✟warning: Yandere, mention of murder, keeping someone under their own will.

✟scenario

✟fandom: Who Made Me A Princess

✟summary: Weeks of searching for a way back to you world was becoming was becoming slimmer and slimmer. A week before your wedding day, Claude calls for you.

✟a/n: This is another part to this headcanon I made a while back. If you haven’t read part one, you should!:)

Narrow eyes scanned the bookshelves of the palace library, desperately trying to find a book. A book of magic to be precise. Having only been staying at the palace for a month now, you had been desperately trying to find some way back to your world. In only a week, you would married to that demon man, Claude. As soon as you arrived to the palace that day, Claude had wanted the wedding to take place the next day, obviously scared about this information, you begged the emperor to wait a month or so to at least let you settle. After a bit of persuading, he finally agreed, unknowingly giving you time to find a way out of this nightmare. But as days passed, escaping began to feel hopeless.

Picking up one of the many books on the shelf, you quickly skimmed through, eyes searching for certain words. Like many other times though, nothing came up and with a frustrated sigh, you closed the book and stuffed it back onto the shelf. Having been in this library every chance you got, you had nearly been through every single spell book the palace had to offer and nothing came up!

Hearing the sound of the door opening, heavy footsteps followed suit, you had a slight inkling feeling who it was. “What is it now Felix?” You questioned, eyes continuing to scan the dark oak shelf. The tall crimson red-haired guard was either here for two reasons. Reason one: To check up on you and see if you haven’t escaped or planning an escape, and then reason two: To call for you…

A shudder went down your spine at the thought of seeing that cold-hearted emperor, praying to the gods for it to be the first option. “I apologise for disturbing you Miss [name], but his highness has summoned you” Felix spoke softly. Glaring down at your clenched fist, you didn’t have a choice in the matter. Claude didn’t care if he had to order someone to drag you to him, as long as you’re brought to him without a single scratch on your body. And he will check. So not wanting to put another poor guard through what happened the last time you refused, you obligated. Carefully stepping down the ladder steps, Felix under you making sure you don’t accidentally fall. Reaching the final step, the redheaded guard with a firm grip on your wrist, guided you down. Feet now on the ground, you and the Royal guard made your way out of the comfort of the library to the vicious lion’s den.

Following slowly behind with Felix leading the way, you could feel the eyes of passing servants go by, pity filled in their eyes. You tried to ignore them, but soon it became impossible when they began mumbling to one another. Muttering softly about the “disappearance” of your maid. But you know, everyone knows that she didn’t disappear! It was Claude who murdered that poor girl…

Finally stopping in front of a pair of white doors, Felix stepped forward and knocked lightly but still louder enough for someone to hear. It was dead quiet, nobody answered and you let out a relieved sigh. Felix knocked again, this time louder, waiting for some kind of response. You tried hiding your excitement, you really did but it was too damn hard. You didn’t have to see that monster. Backing away from Felix, you gave the redhead a shrug with a fake pout. “Aww, looks like he’s not in.” The pout then morphed into a giddy expression and you waved over to the confused guard. “Well, see you.”

About to dash off, Felix grabbed your wrist, lightly pulling you toward him. “He could just be sleeping” Felix reminded. Placing a hand on the door handle, the man opened it. Your breath hitched and you cringed watching the door eerily open, reminding you of the horror movie you used to watch before you were trapped in this nightmare of a world. Eyes pleaded for Felix to let you go back to the library, you would have got on your hands and knees if it wasn’t for the royal guard pushing you into the dimly lit room. “You’re his fiancée, I don’t think he would mind if you woke him up and anyway, he did ask for you.” And with that the oblivious man closed the door, leaving you all alone inside the lion’s den.

Thoughts plagued your head, eyes scanning the room for any sign of Claude. Checking the comfy plush bed of your soon-to-be husband, you see no Claude. Wanting to believe that he had more pressing matters to attend to, you knew that hope was just a pipe dream. Even if his kingdom was on the brink of war, the emperor would still make time for you, and probably (definitely) even start a war for you. It horrifies you to the core to think a man like him could be that obsessed with someone. A man who killed his own flesh and blood…

E/C eyes landed on a nearby figure laying peacefully on an elegant white and golden couch. Approaching the man you would find yourself captivated by the sight. Even if he was a horrible man, you do have to admit that Claude was breathtaking to look at, though you would never say that out loud. A bit of his golden locks lay against his face, covering his soft smooth face. You don’t know what compelled you to do this next thing, moving a hand towards him, you push a few locks of hair away from his face and behind his ear. In this state, he looks peaceful. You found it weirdly cute, making you forget all the bad stuff he’s done to you and the people around him. An emperor that would kill thousands in your name now reminded you of a sleeping child. But soon that would change. Not wanting to disturb him, you pushed yourself up and as you were about to move away, a hand grabbed your arm with a tight squeeze. “Where do you think you’re going?” A chill went down your spine and you mentally cursed at yourself. How long had he been awake, was he really asleep or was it some sort of trick?!

The tight grip on your wrist would surely leave a bruise. Stuttering out a response, you tried coming up with something to get you got off this shitty situation. “Umm, W-well you see…I um-“ Becoming pissed with all this stuttering and stumping, Claude rolled his diamond eyes pulling you onto him. Falling onto his chest, an arm slithered around your waist. You knew fighting him would be futile and it would only anger him, so you stayed, your head resting against his chest, hearing the light thumps of the emperor’s heartbeat. Tears welling up In your beautiful E/C eyes, sobs escaped from your mouth and salty tears stained the blonde clothes. Was this your life, to be the wife of this monster? You had a second chance at life, which not many people had and it was already going down the gutter.

Claude on the other hand ignored your cries, instead, he imagined a perfect life with you. Just the two of you together forever, maybe even a child, if Claude was kind enough to share you. Who knows what the future will hold…

#who made me a princess #wmmap #who made me a princess x reader #wmmap x reader #yandere claude x reader #yandere claude #claude de alger obelia #claude de alger obelia x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #manhwa #manhwa x reader #yandere manhwa #yandere manhwa x reader #wmmap claude #x reader #wmmap fanfic #🌸

2K notes · View notes

amoreva · 1 month

Text

FEIGNING FOR YA

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

CHAPTER 2.5

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary:

warnings: slow burn, college au, smau, fake dating to dating, cursing, clarisse x chris, aged up! pjo charcters, yn is older sister figure to percy, luke and thalia are older sibling figures to annabeth, drinking

a/n: not too much today, but the sm posts are cutesies.

series list | next

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

cbeckendorf

Liked by yn.ln , silenabeau, and 129 others

cbeckendorf i don’t need to go to a museum to look at art, i have her.

tagged silenabeau

View all comments

user1 when is it my turn :/

user2 REAL

jasongrace did you go to the claude monet exhibit?

silenabeau yes! i loved his paintings silenabeau they were absolutely gorgeous racheleliz and you didn’t take me with you? 😔

yn.ln cuties

wisegirl the rings are so cute!

seaweedbrain i can get you paper rings 😎

user3 me when? 💳💥💥💳

lukecastellan posted a story!

jasongrace

Liked by leovaldez, frankzhang, and 23 others

jasongrace late italy photo dump

tagged thaliagrace

View all comments

leovaldez i’m hiding in your suitcase next time

thaliagrace 🦞🦞🦞

jasongrace 😀 jasongrace it wasn’t even that bad thaliagrace you were red for days

user4 gorgeous place

frankzhang expecting an Italian lemon for my birthday

lukecastellan

Liked by clarisselarue, chris.rod, wisegirl and 259 others

lukecastellan she made me change shirts :(

tagged yn.ln

View all comments

clarisselarue good.

clarisselarue it’s atrocious.

lukecastellan hater 🙄 yn.ln it was

chris.rod the other woman 🥀🥀

chris.rod (it’s me.) travisstoll 😀

yn.ln wait that photo turned out so good

clarisselarue she’s an icon, a legend and he’s. there 🧍‍♂️

user5 i wouldn’t make you change shirts

user5 GIVE ME EIENE CHANCE 🙏🙏

silenabeau 🤭

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

taglist:

@happy-mushrooms @m00ng4z3r @justanotherkpopstanlol @2hiigh2cry @celluifleur @thatbird-fromrio @yuminako @pookiebear16 @mxtokko @cxcilla @kai-islost @kidkrowk @iluvpjo

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan pjo #pjo series #luke castellan imagine #percy series #feigning for ya #friends to lovers #slow burn

224 notes · View notes

melonminnie · 1 year

Note

How about Planotic Yandere Claude x Daughter reader (who's the FL's twin sister) who is secretly living through her fifth life while she never got executed she always took her own life after her sister died because a life without her sister isn't a life worth living. She hates Claude with a passion and even when he starts to pay attention to his twins. She makes a point of never ever calling him Father or Dad and only refers to him as his Highness or Claude when talking about him. She is very suspicious of his intentions when he starts being nice to them. And while she does say "Thanks". She never ever accepts anything from him. Eventually this results in Claude begging his youngest twin daughter to call him Father Or Dad and she yells at him " WHY SHOULD I LOVE YOU WHEN YOU'VE NEVER EVER EVER LOVED US? HELL YOU BLAME US FOR MOM'S DEATH CLAUDE. EVERY TIME I HAVE COME BACK I WAS HOPING THAT MAYBE JUST MAYBE YOU HAD CHANGED AND YOU DESTROY THEM WITH EASE BY MURDERING MY TWIN SISTER AND THEN PROBABLY LAUGHING AT MY DEATH WHEN I TAKE MY LIFE. CAN'T YOU JUST GO BACK TO ACTING LIKE WE DON'T EXIST? YOU HAVE DONE IT UP UNTIL THIS POINT. CLAUDE PLEASE JUST GO." And Claude at first confused and concerned has a doctor check on his daughters and then reads a book which explains what's happening to reader. Claude realizing how many his other selfs screwed up and he winds up be coming super overprotective and Possessive of the twins and basically locks them away, promising to protect them from everythimg and everyone.

Two puppets (Yan!Claude x fem! Reader) platonic

-Tysm for requesting mwah!! Appearance is the same as athy ^^

The girl stared at the ceiling once again, This scene was almost too familiar to begin with.

She sighed as if she’d gone threw this a million times which she had, this being her fifth life by now.

In each life she’d take her own after her twin sister would get executed, See y/n truly did adore her twin so much so that she couldn’t live without her.

In her first life she’d let it happen, then realized there was no meaning if she wasn’t around.

In her second life, she tried defending the princess, she’d gotten put in jail for trying to frame the imperial family. Then she committed suicide

In her third life she tried running away it didn’t work, it got repeated and she committed once again.

In her fourth life, she committed after she found out.

it was the same cycle again and again, the only thing she was thankful for in those lives was she got relive the happy moments with her sister over and over again.

the girl never once thought of blaming her sister for her own death, in fact in every life she’d blame her father, someone who was okay with murdering his own child over one who isn’t his to begin with.

She knew he probably laughed at her when he looked at her grave, If he ever even went. She knew he probably even laughed when he found out that she committed.

Saying that the princess hated him would be an understatement, she wished he’d burn suffer threw everything she’d been forced to go threw. Only then would she try to forgive the man.

“Athy stop running!” The blonde begged chasing after her sister, her short legs were getting her nowhere at this point.

from exhaustion the girl fell to the ground crying in her head mentally, she heard footsteps, “Y/n what’s wrong?” She tilted her head helping up her sister.

“You’re going to fast!” She cried, she clung onto her chest, Athanasia stared down at the girl.

“okay then we will walk!” She declared holding onto Y/ns hand and moving forward.

Athy at first was quite irritated by how clingy y/n was but she had gotten used to it, she’d adjusted her plan into the two of you running away when you two were older instead.

As usual you were looking out incase anyone was wondering why two toddlers were out.

“Athy do we go no-” for a split second you turned your attention to your sister who was biting gold, quickly you ran to her and scolded the blonde but before you could finish.

A shadow was cast upon the two of you upon looking at who it was, this hadn’t happened in any timeline prior to this.

You wanted to run away no you could, but your body wasn’t allowing you in the slightest, all you could do was stare at the blonde man who’s name was Claude de alger obelia, Who had gemstones for eyes, who was also your father the emperor.

What’s he doing here?, the girl though anxiously, this had never happened before, nor was her sister acting like in the past timelines but she never questioned it.

In fact she’d never actually seen the man, she’d heard about him, but she’d never seen him face to face.

“What is this?are they bugs take them away” the man demanded, y/n peered at her sister nervously realizing she had the same expression as her.

The gold coins and diamonds quickly fell to the ground make loud noises as they hit they hit the marble floor, it was noticeable in the silence making it even more awkward.

after a while he finally spoke again, “those faces I’ve seen them before” he sneered, “was it that dancer from siodonna?, you look like her” he added in the same tone.

When that scene ended, you could barely remember what happened or how you ended up in the emperors office seated next to your sister.

The blonde glanced around the room in suspicion, was he planning on murdering you in front of your sister? Why were you infront of him.

“Athy can talk” Y/n heard her sister speak she turned her attention back to her, right she wasn’t paying attention so what was this conversation even about? Was he about to murder Athanasia because he thought she turned out mute?.

after a while, y/n knew this was all an act from the way her sister was acting. But she didn’t bother speaking not like he was speaking to her anyway.

“I ordered them to bring out something kids would like” he spoke, noticing either of you were eating the food. “If you don’t eat I will have no choice but to punish the cook” he threaten his eyes trained on the two of you like you were animals.

“Thank you for the food!” Athanasia yelled stuffing her mouth with the deserts on the table. You swore you saw a tear fall down her face.

“And you why aren’t you eating?” He questioned, “I’ll eat later…” the girl responded, “thank you for the food your majesty” she added, She could feel Athanasia stare at her with a confused look.

it was left at that, the rest you erased from your memory, once the two of you returned you clung onto one of the maids legs and started crying.

Later that night, Felix came and informed the maids that you two would have tea together every day.

Claude soon found out the difference between the two of you, though you were twins you had shorter hair than her and more quiet, your existence was barely noticeable unless people payed attention.

Athy called claude her father, while you couldn’t even look at him without feeling disgusted in someway. The only thing anyone other than Athanasia was able to coax you into saying was “okay or thank you”. Anyone who wasn’t aware would assume your the older twin based on how you’d act, but Athy knew it was an act.

Everyone shrugged it off as you liking Athanasia more due to you two growing up together.

Once the emperor decided to give you a gift, Exactly to test your reaction. But it was the same. you’d thank him and never use the gift or wear it again. To say that he was irritated would be an understatement, this was the first emotion he’d shown other than his creepy smile.

He’d tried to find an answer as to why his youngest hated him with a passion, but he couldn’t find one he’d let you be and never irritate you once.

Every once in a while he’d ask her the question.

“Why won’t you call me father at least?”

“Why don’t you call me papa I thought younger siblings like copying their older siblings”

Once he resorted to some sort of begging watching your normal expression change into shock.

To say you’d had enough was an understatement, Each and every movement of his every word he’d spoke was irritating.

So the last time he’d opened his mouth and muttered out the saying you finally lost it.

“Why do you care” the girl asked her voice lower than a whisper, “what?” He responded clearly asking you to speak up.

“Why do you suddenly act as if you care do you think buying all this jewelry and junk would make us happy after you blamed us for our mothers death knowing she’d want us to be here you broke your promise with her all because you couldn’t handle losing her! You took it out on us and now you want waddle your way back into my life and bribe us with gifts? You want to kill Athy again like you always do you wanna murder her and make her regret being born when she did nothing! You’d probably laugh at me after I die again wouldn’t you? Life was better when you didn’t even know our names nor our looks I hate you I hate you so much words can’t describe it you’re not my father and you’ll never be! I hate you Claude I hate you with my entire soul”

the emperor was confused, Shocked maybe he stared at her speechless, he turned his attention to one of the servants in the room.

“Call the physician my daughter isn’t well” he spoke, the servant quickly scrabbling around.

“Your daughter seems just fine, your highness just make sure she drinks more water” he reassures leaving the room.

Still even with the rpm doctor confirming it, he couldn’t shake off this feeling that there was something off. From the way you said those words to be exact.

So he ordered Felix to bring him every book known about magic or sickness, he soon found out the reason.

Reincarnation, something that was told to be a myth, he believed a hundred percent that was what happened to you, it was uncanny because you aren’t dead, nor is your sister dead.

Although he doesn’t know how many lives you’ve had or how you even reincarnated, he knew that all of his past lives were why you were so wary of him.

He’d made a promise with himself that day, a promise that till the day he dies he’d keep you safe.

“Where are you going?” The blonde questioned his daughter, “Garden” she responded, without a word he picked her up and drew further away from the garden.

“Your hi-”

”From now on.. The second princess of obelia will only be allowed when requested if I find her out her room without it being brought to me first I’ll hang your heads on the palace walls. The same goes for the first princess” he declared his eyes fixated on the girl.

“Because as long as I’m alive nobody will be allowed to hurt you”

I had a lot of fun writing the request ntg‼️‼️Hope u enjoyed reading pookies 😍💕💕

#-Azuwritess #wmmap x reader #wmmap fanfic #wmmap #wmmap athanasia #wmmap claude #who made me a princess #yandere manhwa x reader #platonic yandere #claude x reader #claude de alger obelia x you

848 notes · View notes

aweirdfan101 · 1 year

Text

Hello dearies! @oni-otakue had an ask and I am here to fulfill it! I’m so sorry this took so long!! I had a lot of dental stuff and just overall health issues to deal with!! I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Yandere themes, not proof read

Type of writing: Fanfiction, Yandere headcanons

About: Yan! Myers(VTSOM) and Yan!Claude with a Fem!Daughter figure reader who asks them if they want her to have children! (Separate headcanons)

Characters: Myers(VTSOM) and Claude(VTSOM)

Yan!Myers x Fem!Daughter figure reader headcanons(Platonic)

💙I feel like Myers wouldn’t care too much about if you had children or not. As long as you weren’t in a relationship he didn’t mind. (Please remember surrogates and adoption is a thing)

💙If he did end up becoming a grandfather he would definitely spoil them, it would honestly be hard for him not to spoil your kids.

💙In his eyes you’re perfect and you’re his daughter. Your children are worth pretty much equal to you. He does genuinely love your children though, but he would sorta be absent more often since he has a business.

💙If you ever need help with raising your kids he more than likely just gets a nanny as I doubt he’s amazing with kids…

💙Yet something cute he does is literally reads a ‘How to Raise Kids’ manual. He probably shows up to your kids and says ‘How do you do my fellow kids?’

💙He tries to act ‘woke’ or ‘hip’ as he says. Yet he fails horribly. It’s honestly sometimes cringy, but also really funny. You probably have to pull him aside and tell him when something isn’t exactly in with the times.

💙He is probably pretty cuddly with your kids and often hugs them and offers to watch them. Also, when you’re kids are older he would definitely want to teach them about finance.

💙If Myers found out someone was posing any sort of threat to your kids. He could get them rid of easier than saying 1 2 3. And if they’re really pissing him off, he’ll gladly take care of it himself.

💙Myers would definitely try and show your kids his way of thinking and how to clean up blood and overall just yandere stuff. He 100% tries to teach them how to stalk someone. He usually starts it by ‘Don’t tell your mother.’

💙Myers is basically the rich grandpa who’s still a sweetheart and cuddly grandpa.

Yan!Claude x Fem!Daughter reader Figure headcanons(platonic)

💙Claude wouldn’t mind if you had kids. However, he would definitely make sure it’s either adoption or surrogacy. He is definitely a stricter grandpa and often watches over them for you.

💙He always wanted children, probably around 4. So he wouldn’t mind watching over your kids or even taking care of them if you had stuff to do or even just needed a break.

💙Claude probably researched a lot about having kids and babies. He helps you a lot with taking care of your kids and the biggest piece of advice he gives you is that if you’re tired and so drained just walk away from the baby for a moment. Take a breather and even take a nap for around an hour.

💙Claude is extremely protective over your kids. If someone even looks at them wrong they’re going missing. He’s a detective so he knows what police officers look for and knows how to avoid showing evidence.

💙Claude honestly takes almost like a father role of your kids at times. He’s pretty strict and tries to teach your kids something at any chance he can.

💙He’s pretty similar to Myers with teaching how to clean up blood, hiding bodies, but he’s a lot better at what to teach considering he’s dealt with murder cases before.

💙During your pregnancy if you do surrogacy, he’ll one 100% treat you like a princess and just ask for something he’ll get it for you. Even if the pregnancy is pretty easy, he knows pregnancy can sometimes suck so he wants to help where he can.

💙Claude very secretly wants you to have a girl kid. He doesn’t care what the gender is, but he wants to do their hair and if your son wants to have their hair done he gladly does it. Deep down he really just wants to style your kids hair, even though he sucks at it and is still learning.

💙Even though Claude’s strict it’s more than likely your kids will cling to him as he’s actually pretty sweet and deep down has a huge soft spot for them. He cries when he first meets your kids. He will forever hope you didn’t notice his tears. (he was full blown sobbing you noticed.)

#fanfiction #vtsom #headcanons #x fem!reader #x reader #yandere headcanons #fluff #vtsom claude x reader platonic #platonic headcanons #vtsom platonic headcanons #myers x reader #vtsom myers #vtsom Myers x reader

29 notes · View notes

saint-siren · 6 months

Text

A World For Her Alone | Ptolemaea

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15

cw (chapter specific): pregnancy, childbirth, dubcon, death, the aftermath of severe abuse, slavery, derealization (?), the general ennui of noble marriage

pairing: claude x fem!reader

summary: Men! Don't they always think of "the one that got away"?

author's note: Girlfail Barbie and Catholic guilt ken or whatever the kids are saying idk.

When he returned to life again, he was haunted by a fervor to change things. He was a desperate animal caught in a trap, biting his own limb in a bid to escape. He’d languished too long in the inevitable misery that befell him again and again and again. This time, he told himself again, it would be different. He considered readying a horse to come and warn you about this thing that had overtaken him but there were obvious flaws in the plan such as; what if he saw Diana and was besotted again before he had the chance to tell you everything? Even if he succeeded what was he to say to you? What would you be able to do that you had not already attempted? How could you break this hold? What would your knowledge of his predicament mean against something that felt so primordial, something that compelled him to kill you?

What measure could be taken to change this? The last few minutes before he would have to bring himself to truly live this life, he spent at his desk, resigned to writing a missive.

For some reason, this life’s distinctions were more prominent. Firstly, it felt like reality was itself melting, sliding off its center to be remolded around him in the blink of an eye like candle wax. There were times where he forgot that his body wasn’t his own, that he identified with that darkness that puppeteered his body with grotesque ease. Things in that life had an unreal quality to them as if a fever dream he’d soon wake from. The horror of this life was softer, it was brighter, sweeter. He no longer begged for mercy, he only phased into the void that had become him deeper and deeper until he could no longer claim the pain he experienced as his own. He fell in love with Diana again, everything was wrong but he gave himself to the faltering, glitching reality that provided his distraction.

Had he only imagined it or had you become close with your sister in this life? It was unthinkable to him that you would, remembering all the pain she had caused you, still seem to love and look after her. It was a gesture that horrified him, the depths of your magnanimity, your forgiveness were hard for him to handle. Where was the rage you were due? Where was the lady he’d known before? Where had that livid and mournful glint in your eyes, like the silver pommel of the kitchen knife he’d nearly stabbed you with, that had appeared the life after your daughter had been born? Its sudden disappearance was an omen, he was convinced. Now, your eyes were soft as a saint’s, it was a sweet look of righteous suffering. Yours was the look of a martyr.

He was too late to save you, that look told him as much. You were a woman going to into the flame, worn and deprived of her fight; of the vicious urge for retribution. You were the dregs of a woman, bent to the shape of the realities you’d inhabited. Bent partial to Diana. This peace between sisters had come at a cost he would only live to know in your next life.

You tutored Diana, persistently, pushing her to learn more always. You two spent a great deal at each other’s sides and Claude was aware that even though in previous lives, you’d suffered criticism for not being close enough with your sister; now you were seen as an overbearing older sister pushing her poor, helpless little sister to always do more. He could not really grasp at reality strong enough to muster more outrage at the world which now seemed to be a mindless chorus, for their hypocrisy. Curiously, though, his greater self was pleased at your conduct and ignored the slanderous chatter. The darkness was sated by your concern for your sister and it thanked you by not making efforts to exclude you, he was still flirting with Diana quite openly, to be sure, but it was much less careless. It felt more as if the two of them were not hiding, not rebelliously defying, but expressing themselves easily before you, knowing that your bite had gone soft, your eyes like that of the rest of their world; understanding how important Diana was.

As the date of your wedding approached, something bad was going to happen. He felt it or perhaps he heard it whispered in the static of a reality which was falling down on top of him all the time. It sat in the pit of his stomach, an anxious ache that never soothed, a wound he could feel festering even when the rush of love for Diana flooded his careworn mind.

Days before your wedding, he was informed that you’d run away. A strange sort of grief did come over him by way of his false heart, his greater self almost seemed to mourn you. To him, and the distinction between his two selves in that moment had never been clearer, it felt as though you’d betrayed him. You’d made him care for you, if only in the slightest and most shallow way possible and then you vanished. You promised to marry him, to make a good wife to him, marchioness to his people and mother to his children. You smiled in his face each time you met and spoke to him with clear affection but you abandoned the future the two of you had painstakingly prepared with years of effort. Like he was nothing. Like the unspoken understanding, the ease that had been built was nothing at all. It disoriented this vast, arrogant creature, it felt to this monstrous part of him like trickery, like deprivation.

His true self knew that this was not the bad thing he’d anticipated. If it were, the seed of anxiety planted in his mind would have finally given way to the deeper misery he knew was to follow and set him free of his fearful, agonizing waiting. But he was still wound tightly, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. You running away from him was not the bad thing; what fate would make you pay for it, was. He had seen this part before, he knew it ended in blood. So he hoped, at least, you got to run quite far before it did. Before reality closed around its status quo again.

Out of obligation and the longtime investment made from his family to yours, he needed to marry a lady of your house. Since you were gone, it fell to Diana to fulfill this duty. This life, Diana had been educated suitably enough to be a marchioness, for theirs not to be an ill-fated marriage for the territory. Claude realized that this must have been by design, it was your insistent effort that led to her being educated so efficiently. He’d heard talk of you seeming to bully her with how much you pushed her to learn. This was your design. You had always planned to run and leave the two of them to what the fates clearly wanted to happen. Although it was an ache in his chest that you were gone, the more pressing feeling was a forlorn emptiness at the fact that he knew how it would end and he could do nothing to stop it.

On the day he married Diana, it was bright and cloudless, surely indicative of the sort of marriage he was to have with her. Her cheeks were flushed with the enduring surprise of being able to marry him but also with surpassing happiness. But did he only hallucinate a crow flying swiftly across the pale morning sky, casting a shadow on them briefly? He could not know. He retained little of his wedding to Diana. After all, it was a frightening thing, this end. This thing he’d been fighting for so long had caught up to him, it had won, or it would in time. It felt like he was further trapped in a labyrinth where before he could at least the see the sky above, now he was completely hidden in the belly of the beast with no end in sight. Everything was Diana. Everything always would be.

The defiling of his will and dignity would be ritual, it would dutiful and nightly. It would loving and soft. It would give him the very precious heirs his people counted on him to provide. It would make a mother of Diana, something she had so desperately wanted as he recalled. In time, he was sure to soften to the ordeal, his despair would only be monotonous, dull, unable to rip open any wounds due to the scar tissue of all his lives prior. This was marriage, he kept telling himself. This was marriage.

Even so, a peculiar thing did happen: Claude had a group of his knights search for you for as long as fiscally reasonable. For two years, he had his knights span out following possible traces of your existence. It was not his own will, his own words that left his mouth but it was so different from everything this thing that puppeteered him had done before. It had showed you sparse concern even when it was in regards to his heir, the thing that should have come before anything. But now, he found that he demanded his knights search for your whereabouts with ease long after your family gave up the pretense. He did so not out of a fervent desire for revenge, the fury of one who had been robbed of something, it was done out of a sort of grief. A sort of desperation to hold to a woman who disappeared into thin air, to reach through the distance and claim the answers you denied.

Claude’s marriage to Diana in the meantime, was not as he imagined the fates would have it be. Of course there was love and affection, of course there was even a constructed desire within him and of course he suffered it inwardly. But there was something that haunted both of them too, a ghost slipped between them always. A ghost who functioned like a scary story for children, whose name being spoken accidentally was just enough to breathe life back into her, just enough to allow her to haunt them. At first, Diana told him that perhaps you had someone you ran away to be with and even his body in the cold hands of his greater self, rejected the notion. He wondered what could ever have given her such an idea, that a woman so meek and truly devoted would have been having an affair. Even that time you left with your knight he didn’t truly believe there was anything between you, it was a desperate measure to escape just like this time. He almost seemed to recoil from her when she spoke of it, it was nothing more than a subtle shift in the air, in his expression but for the first time, Diana seemed to have noticed it even if she did not acknowledge it with words. The message was clear from his expression, the change in tone and the sudden tepidness between them; your escape was to be a sore subject.

It changed the dynamic between them a bit but being married had also done that well enough. Diana was a marchioness who had a certain countenance to keep up, work to do and places to go. She was no longer the vulnerable, tender, helplessly ill girl who begged him to be her reason for continuing on. She now had purpose of her own. None of this displeased his greater self too severely but it did change things between them. No longer were they truly knight and princess. They lived in the real world now as Marquis and Marchioness. It was not like it was with you but it was…changed. A sense of duty settled within her, he got the feeling. She walked with her head higher, her emotions that were once vibrant and expressive on her face were dimmed to a polite mask of a half smile. It was bizarre to see her so grown up.

The ritual degrading practice of lovingly bedding the wife who shouldn’t have been his, seemed to have an odd effect on him this time around. Where before he was able to separate himself, he felt this time he fell deeper into the reality of his situation the longer he was married to Diana. Each time he lay back onto the bed, skin tacky with both their sweat, he was able to physically feel the horror that came with the long line of years that would stretch out between them. Each time he returned to reality enough to feel the result of having just been inside her, he was hit with dread as if time could never dull it. Where before he could only consider the implications of the freshly committed betrayal of you and of his own mind, now he could see a greater picture being painted. This was to be his life from then on, laying back onto his side of the bed with a relieved sigh and cuddling her close speaking of children to be born. While inside, he ceaselessly clawed at the walls, a mad prisoner no longer considering freedom an option, desiring death.

And in those moments, he also thought of you. He thought of where you’d gone. A long time had passed and a long time would pass before you’d see him again. He wondered whether you were living happily somewhere, could it be? Could it really not be that you were somewhere happily living even if just until the blade swinging deftly above your head finally fell? He was the most desperate of men and he imagined it as if a fairytale, a lullaby to take him into a fitful sleep before he would wake and live a life circling around the very tarnishment of both your souls.

At some point he had slipped somewhere. His manner with Diana, although loving to be sure, was whetted to a slight sharpness. It was a strange nuance that he had only realized after years of marriage passed by with him gone inward to your memory. A chill had come to the marquisate that no fire would warm. It started in a small way, in your name slipping out every so often when he spoke of Diana whilst she was not in his presence. It was forgivable, no one spoke ill. But…it progressed to thoughts of you that were shared with his greater mind. A peculiar thing that shook him free of the derealization that came with this sort of monotony in misery. He realized that his thoughts came in one stream, instead of parallel and distinctive. He realized that above his own heart aching, the one that beat for Diana stung for…for something he had once and now could have no more.

Diana seemed to know. Your ghost was no longer benign, you were an active member of the household. Everyday, at some point as he and Diana spoke, he got the sense that she wanted to broach a topic but couldn’t, out of some fear that even speaking of it would harden it to truth. Some insecurity she desperately wanted him to soothe was instead locked away, tamed in fear that it could only be confirmed. It was as if mentioning you at all was a taboo. Claude parsed the difference between this Diana and the ones who came before when he was about the enter the library but heard voices.

“Madame, is it really okay to leave things like this?,” sounded the voice of one of Diana’s servants. The woman had a habit of forming such inappropriate bonds, the two became friends when Diana entered the marquisate as its new mistress. She would have known such a friendship would be unseemly but even so, it was hard for a woman such as Diana to live as a marchioness, beneath a mask as all noblewomen did, without someone she needn’t bother using it with. Claude had not been able to deny her that much.

Claude had paused in the hall when he heard the voice of Diana. He knew why he’d done so, for once, his minds were in tentative agreement. He had come there to think, to be alone with your memory. That day was the anniversary of your disappearance and he wanted to ask the definitive question again and again, until he could put it to rest for the next time. Diana could not be there for his mourning, he did not want her there, more than that. His still heart did love Diana very much, such had not changed, but this time, you were not so easily forgotten. A stain on his heart that should not be there…he knew his wife would see it in his demeanor, his brooding expression and no matter how many times she’d tried to ignore the poignance of the date, it always revealed itself to be stark and imposing.

Diana replied to the servant in a rather genuine tone, “He is a wonderful husband. He has done nothing worthy of reproach.”

Something kept him listening, he could not parse what because his greater self was too busy considering the words that had been, were being and would be spoken between the two women.

“It is…unseemly, for a married man to cling so much to a memory.” The maid sounded as if she wanted to use a word more derogatory than just “unseemly,”

“It cannot be helped,” Diana sighed. “She was his fiancee for much of his life, of course he is still devastated, compared to how long they’ve known each other, the wound is still fresh.”

“Even so, he has you, Madame. Why does he sulk and think of a woman who left him, ran out on him days before their wedding when he has a woman who has loved him faithfully?”

“Don’t ever speak that way, Maude. She is my sister, she is not some random noble you can insult carelessly,” Diana said, with as much sharpness as her voice could carry. “In any case…it is not so simple.”

“Forgive me for speaking out of turn but I fail to understand why it is not simple.”

“It cannot be simple. He is grieving. He and I wed so soon after, before he was able to gather his bearings, even. He may love me more than he ever loved my sister but it is still a loss of something I cannot replace. Who I am as his wife is entwined with that grief as a matter of course, it is simply the star our marriage fell under.”

“Have you ever considered confronting the lord, Madame? Forgive me again for saying so, but I just…after what you found, I don’t believe this is as it seems.”

He could hear the weak smile in Diana’s voice, the suddenly infused lightheartedness. “Oh, I could never do that. Then he’d known I was poking my nose where I shouldn’t have been and even so, I still don’t completely understand what it could mean. Whether a confession or something else, I don’t understand what his intentions were. I…I’m comfortable with never understanding if it means I never have the chance of finding a more unsettling thought beneath.”

“Madame…,” The maid’s voice sounded helpless and full of pity which struck an odd chord within him. A hatefulness unearned, small and weak to be sure but definitely present. At the same time, his heart sunk. He knew all at once exactly what she’d found, what gave her this wariness aside from his small actions. A fractured piece of reality appeared again as if it had never been missing, with the seamlessness of a dream. The letter…it seemed worlds away, it genuinely shocked him to hear what he thought was a reference to it. It hit him as if he’d heard her casually mention she’d been killed a few times over. And there was that pinprick of anger toward her for even knowing about such a thing, from both parts of him for different reasons. For telling her maid and garnering pity that should by rights go to the lost sister whose family had not even looked for her for longer than a month. In his greater self’s mind, for tainting the relief he was capable of feeling when he looked to her even more than it already had been with this. He could not even remember what he’d said but he knew it was something she should not know, it felt so viscerally wrong for her to have read words meant for your eyes. And undoubtedly, though he knew not what words he wrote, he cursed his love her in some manner.

But he took a deep breath and walked away before she could find him eavesdropping and bring it up to him. Something had….changed, he felt. Irreparably so. There was a certain synchrony between his two selves in a way there had never been before and something between he and Diana had shifted because of it. More noticeably this time, there was distance.

Diana found that she was pregnant with their first child soon after and there was as much apprehension in him as there was joy. Reality glitched all the time for him during the pregnancy, memories of you, of her, of previous lives intruded on his senses. Something about her being with child frightened him. His vision was often intercut with visions of the past, of your body, slowly seeping blood and still warm while the wails of your daughter fell on deaf ears. He heard Diana’s anguished crying, giving birth to a son who wasn’t certain to live. This foreboding and regret did not extend to his greater self who found other reasons to feel a note of fear at the thought of having a child with Diana. There was a desperation in that part of him, to make things right again, to make them what they’d been before when they were only illicit, courtly lovers. And even still, he knew it would not be. He could pray as much as he liked, he knew that for however loved and wanting this child would be, he would still be reminded of a future he’d lost with you.

Why was he still so concerned about you when you were not the woman he loved? He could not shut the door on your memory not matter how much he wanted to. Was it as Diana said? Was it because he’d known you so longer? He couldn’t think so. It was not like him to be sentimental because of time. Perhaps, he thought, it could be because of how you behaved in the year before you ran away. You treated Diana with a special kindness, you turned a blind eye to the obvious love between them and you ran away just short of your own wedding knowing that she’d…she’d had to marry him in your stead…You had done it on purpose. You had primed her to wed him, you knew what they had and you made it possible by abandoning your whole life. That revelation filled him with some unknown mixture of feelings that he could not stand. It was always to be a thorn in his heart, he would always remember who he owed this life to. And how could he be happy with that as he should be? How could he be happy not knowing why you allowed it to be and where you had gone now? How could you grant such an act of selflessness and disappear? You clearly didn’t want to be found. Why?

The more he thought of you, the more ennui he felt with his life with Diana. Their marriage was haunted by the shadow of your sacrifice. The day his child was born, a daughter, it was a night just like the one where your parents informed him you’d run away. Again his apprehension surpassed his joy when Diana went into labor, he’d paced anxiously outside in the hall listening to her sounds of pain while he looked out the window at the moon which hung in the sky like a being in its own right, watching him apathetically. He tried to get your memory out of his system before his daughter came into the world. He just…he just wished for that moment to be theirs alone. When their daughter was born, healthy and crying loudly from the terrible newness of the world, Diana held her to her chest, crying soft tears of her own at the newness of motherhood. Although his happiness was great, it was edged in something that could not be ignored, something which he felt tainted the moment in some way. He thought again on the night you disappeared and again asked himself where you could be, what you could be doing, did you have children of your own now? Somehow, he hoped you did. It would hurt him badly to know you had children with another man, love or no love between he and you, but he still wanted you to have that much. But that wasn’t the thought that truly cemented the fact that he and Diana would never have a moment that belonged to them again. It was actually the fact that when he first set eyes on his daughter, he looked for your face in hers.

He was glad Diana had been looking down at their daughter at that moment, perhaps if she’d looked up just then, she’d have caught a glimpse of that yearning in his eyes. He cried and thanked her for giving him a child, making him a father and it was genuine gratitude but the tears, the tears were for what was lost and what was left of you which endured. And inside, he dwelled in anguish because what remained of his true self was further broken, disillusioned by the fact that this child that he so pitifully wanted to avoid, had been born. She would live, her name written in his family registry, raised with careful hands and more love than most. She would live well and your child, he one who knew she’d lost you and had the only sensible reaction to it, her name was yet unknown.

As the years passed, Claude and Diana settled into life as parents. He realized that what Diana expected of him as a father simply didn’t come naturally, he was not an overtly affectionate person in general for anyone but Diana. This did not compute to her, and of course it didn’t, with her having your parents excessive favor and then with the underlying hair thin cracks in their marriage. She required his gestures to be grander, she required more assurance of his love. So, he got more comfortable with it for her sake, he made his affection more theatrical for her, though it felt more like wearing a different mask more than it felt like actually changing who he was. He didn’t exactly know how to be a father, his own wasn’t much of an example, he felt awkward and clumsy with it on his own but he knew how to emulate with the best of them. As was necessary for life as an aristocrat. This had the inadvertent effect of raising his daughter feeling less personal, less of a bond. It felt more like everything else in his life as a nobleman did, false and procedural. And there was the fact that both his selves were reminded of you when they looked at her, inevitably, even if only for a split second each time. One side reminded of what once was and one side reminded of what could have been.

Luckily, the child was much like her mother and did not comprehend the difference. She was young yet, and still he feared she would not go to him, that she’d cry and fuss in his arms, rejecting him instinctively. Sometimes, Claude felt worried that one day when she was older, she’d look to him for comfort, so he would put forth his best image but she’d see something in him that would tell her how false he was. But it never happened, the child slept easy in his arms and though Diana pouted a bit, she was amused her daughter was a daddy’s girl just as she was. Everything was alright, especially compared to some very frigid noble marriages he’d hear gossip about before. It seemed that the two of them had reached a mutual, unspoken agreement. They’d never talk about what they lacked, they’d take consolation in what they had managed to keep even if it wasn’t what it used to be.

They went on like that. The time passed quickly, reality seemed to melt, not with hard glitches but the lines blurred together. It got to the point where he felt that the date of your disappearance was not years past but minutes ago. He felt as though he were in the night trailing after you, shouting your name just as much as he felt like an ordinary father with the wife he coveted for so long. His body vibrated with a dull hum and at night when he laid beside Diana to sleep, lights flashed beneath his eyelids as if a candle were lit before him. He would come home and hold his daughter in his arms and still feel as though his breath would come out in a puff from the cold, feel as though something had only just been taken. Every so often the child he held felt foreign to him. He could not even recognize which side of him the feeling belonged to, he was not sure it mattered now. Perhaps this was the real end. Maybe you’d gotten away happily and it was his punishment this time to never feel what he should even when he had what he wanted. He could accept that much, he thought with more peace than he deserved in the delusion.

Of course it was when he accepted the idea of living without you that he came back. A messenger was sent, hesitant to relay the information that Felix and a few of his comrades had been tracking your whereabouts independently from the orders of your parents. You’d been found, barely alive, trapped in an establishment of very ill repute, worked as a slave.

This news was enough to devastate and selfishly relieve him. You were alive. You had been worked nearly to death. You were supposed to have lived well enough, perhaps a simple, rustic life as a merchant’s wife with children born of love always at your skirts. “Will she live?” His voice broke.

The messenger shook his head. “We don’t know, my lord. We only know that the count and countess are receiving her soon.”

Claude almost didn’t bother telling Diana, rushing to find a servant to have a horse prepared so that he could ride there and see you for himself. Until he was met with Diana who entered the room, seeing her family’s sigil on the sleeve of the messenger and he had to tell her. Yes, that was right…It was Diana who’d lost more than he had when you left. Of course it was necessary to tell her first. Somehow, it disappointed him to not be able to see you alone. To know that inevitably, Diana would want to see you and she’d bring along their daughter whom she couldn’t be without. All manner of frenzied feelings were passing through his greater self but prominently, there was a distinct, selfish desire to see you again. A thought that perhaps it would fix everything that has been wrong with him since you ran away. And concurrently ran the sharp anguish of his inner self which had awakened from its comfortable misery. Again in this life, you had suffered for his sake. He could not seem to stop stealing your life again and again and again. What had been done to you? What had you suffered while he raised a child that wasn’t yours? Deprived of your status and kept as a slave; oh, the image his mind had painted from what he knew of such things from his knighthood was a grotesque one. You, who had already been stripped of everything several times over, deprived even of the safety in your noble status. The only thing that made being born to such a family as yours, tied to such a fate as his more bearable, that you’d not be subject to all the cruelties of the world, only the ones he could inflict.

Diana’s eyes grew large and clouded over as he told her what news had arrived. He stiffened at this, hypocritically suspicious of her concern. He felt a pinprick of annoyance at her, remembering now, the time she’d suggested you’d have been the type to run away with a lover. He felt the briefest urge to shame her, he hoped for a second that she’d remember it too as he had and be ashamed. It faded quickly and it stung but he couldn’t be bothered to scold himself for it. The more important issue at hand was your life. Diana spluttered, “My sister has been found? Where is she now?” She, perhaps not the most dutiful sister, did show at least this much love for you. In her eyes, he could see the resolve to see you again despite a slight troubled look in them. She was ready to go wherever you had. Claude’s careworn, lovesick heart softened some and instead of answering her, he simply called out to a passing servant to ready the carriage, for they were going to the manor of his in-laws right away.

Diana woke up their daughter from her nap and the three of them made their way your parents’ manor where they awaited your return after so many years. Your parents tried to take pains to greet him formally, to reach for their grandchild but he waved them off rudely. “Where is she?”

Your mother flinched, pulling away, embarrassed to have been snubbed so brashly by him. “She’s being brought here by the knights, they’ve not yet arrived but they should return shortly.”

Diana’s brow furrowed at her mother’s disposition. Something about the situation had apparently unsettled her but she said nothing in regards to it. Claude had the urge to tell her, “Look closely at the woman you know to be your mother, does she look worried at all about your sister? Look at your father, too. Does he seem as you imagine we would if we located the dying body of our daughter after she’d been missing nearly a decade?” He wanted her to see them as they were even if it were too late for it to matter. He wanted her to see who favored her, what sort of people loved her, a wretched murderer, a philanderer, a careless woman. He wanted her to wonder what it said about her that she’d be loved by them.

You arrived shortly as your parents probably prayed so that they’d not have to deal with more questions and the suspicious look in their only true daughter’s eyes, the disillusionment. Felix brought you up your old bedroom, he’d gone up to have the servants ready it for your arrival, overseeing their work anxiously to make sure it was made comfortable enough for a woman of an unknown level of severe illness and injury. Diana had wanted to follow him up to help but he’d, gently as he was capable of in such a situation, had her wait downstairs under some thin guise in relation to their daughter. He’d not wanted to be around them then, as the time grew nearer to seeing you again.

When Felix brought you upstairs, he stood at attention from the corner where he sat anxiously looking about your room. You had large bruises up and down your body, you were filthy with blood caked under your nails and on the side of your head clinging to brittle hair, you were bandaged here and there in haste. He made a small sound of anguish and surprise, for it was one thing to be told you were near death, another thing to see it, smell it, feel it radiate off of your body. You were decaying even as you drew breath. Felix’s gaze lifted to Claude unabashedly hateful for a moment as he realized he was in the room but quickly flickered back down to you. Claude pulled back the covers on the bed for Felix to set you down and called for the doctor in a voice that betrayed a stifled sob.

The doctor did as he could for you under the somber watch of Claude but even so, you remained unconscious. He didn’t leave your side, praying for you to open your eyes at least, even if just briefly. Even if just to damn him. Even if you were doomed as the doctor seemed to believe. He’d said you were almost certain to die, that it was a matter of making you comfortable, an offense which had gotten him a verbal lashing from Claude even though he knew it was most likely the truth. Diana hesitated to bring their daughter up the room, knowing your body’s fragile condition and the very apparent air of death that surrounded had already frightened her, she came to see you later when she put their daughter down.

She loomed over your body, trying to find somewhere to touch you, to let you know she was here with you but everywhere was marred and she drew her hand back with a horrified look from seeing you up close, teary eyed. A strange marriage of anger, pity and love did come over him when he saw that. He wanted her to leave him be with you, he wanted to condemn her for even wanting to see you when the reason you were dying was because you made a sacrifice for your sake. But how could he? They were both guilty of the same sin, same measure. Their union was only made possible through their selfish brandishing of their love so how could he turn his back on her so belatedly? How could he deny her for this when he’d been the one to gain the most from their union? For shame or for pride, she was his wife. They were too closely entwined for him to become a hypocrite just now. Though, that hardly meant he wanted to see her healthy, well and with their child while the woman who was deprived of everything lay dying.

He sent Diana from the room, again under the guise of their daughter, “assuring” her that he’d stay at your side all night. Diana’s expression shifted slightly, revealing a hint of the girl she used to be, unpolished and genuine, unable to help showing all her emotions on her face. She looked…wounded but he must have looked very devastated because when he turned to face her fully, her expression slackened slightly and she did not argue. She only sighed and said, “I hope you won’t make yourself ill doing that. I’ll be in my old room, send for me straight away if you feel tired or unwell at all. I love you.” She said her ‘I love you’ like a plea, like she was near begging for his reassurance again. But Claude was simply not in the frame of mind to be declaring his love her even as it still ruled him. He simply nodded at her and looked back at you. Diana stayed still for a few seconds, he felt her eyes on him, felt that he’d hurt her in his denial. Then, she left the room swiftly.

A day later, his whole body hurt, he had not slept and his mind had gone numb. He could no longer consider very much of the future, he waded through the past. “I wonder…” he began in a tone loud enough to hear through the door. “Are you still out there?”

Felix entered the room. He’d been guarding your door since you returned home. He had not left or giving up the task to another knight for long enough to sleep. He had stood there obstinately without saying a word as if he’d never stopped being your knight. “You called for me, My Lord?” His voice was flat and very hardly concealing a certain amount of disdain.

“You searched for my- for the lady independently, if I understand correctly.”

“Indeed,” Felix answered simply.

“Diana and I owe you our gratitude for doing so, for not giving up on her so easily.”

“Oh, I could not abide you being in debt to me, Lord Claude. All that I did, I did for the lady’s sake alone.” A clear message in that, Claude’s lips almost curled into a bitter smile.

“Very good. You may rest now, the lady is in no further danger.”

“I’m afraid I would hardly be a knight if I were only devoted to looking after her when I felt there were further dangers imminent, My Lord.”

“What is it that you’re concerned about? I am at her side, a knight in my own right. I will not leave her.”

Felix only smiled, a hateful, spiteful smile. “Nor will I, My Lord. I hope you understand.”

Oh, Claude understood. Both the voices inside did, in their own manner. An odd similarity had struck between them, as close as they ever had been to being as one. “Very well,” He sighed, unduly frustrated. “You may return.” He did not even know why he’d desired for Felix to leave so much. Was it that he wanted, even if only once, to be the man who put himself aside for you? Was it that Felix’s very existence condemned his own, with his above dutiful knightly devotion to you contrasting the easy manner in which Claude had been willing to trade you for Diana? He felt guilt when he heard that it was Felix who’d found you, who’d never stopped looking and then an ounce of envy. He knew it was arrogant but if there was nothing else he could do to make up for what had been done, he wanted to be the one who rescued you.

It was a bitter pill to swallow, realizing there was no grand redemption for what had been done just as there was nothing that could ever fill the hole of your absence. He had left you to die as he wed the love of his life and made a very beloved child with her. He had taken your sacrifice into his hands easily and enjoyed a peaceful life because of it without even being able to imagine that you’d never get the same. His obliviousness to how you must have been seeing he and Diana, pushed you into thinking you needed to sacrifice for their sakes or else simply needed to escape a marriage to a man who loved your little sister. You were responsible for all that he had now. And what would he do if you never again opened your eyes? What would he do if you went to your grave thinking you meant so little to him that he’d not even done the smallest thing for you?

Fortunately, your condition had gotten slightly better by the next evening. You had brief bouts of consciousness after a long stretch of unresponsiveness. You had a fever and the doctor was doing all he could with his remedies to break it but it didn’t seem to be working. There was only so much that could be done with your body in such a condition. There was hardly anything that could be administered to you to rid you of any pain though the doctor mentioned there was a chance you weren’t feeling anything at all for you did not attempt to speak when you woke and slipped quite easily back out of consciousness. A prospect which was morbidly comforting. If you were to die, all the better for you to do so peacefully. But because the chance that you were indeed suffering from the high fever wreaking havoc on your body, he gently laid a cool cloth against your forehead.

Seconds later, your eyes opened, slowly blinking as your lips parted in an attempt to take air into your lungs more easily. He pulled his hand away as soon as he saw your eyes open, as if he’d been caught doing something unseemly. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you returned to consciousness, your eyes bleary and hollow. You gazed at him as if seeing past him, as if seeing the figments of him that had failed you before. The cowardly part of him that lay hidden behind worthless flesh wanted simply to tell you that…well, he didn’t actually know what he should say if he were given the chance. At one time, he imagined he’d tell you he loved you but what use was his love to you anymore? In every life he had loved and in every life someone bled for it. What comfort could it possibly bring? As much comfort as a curse which grows into you with time. The constance of misfortune and the certainty that it would become both of you, that was his love.

It hardly mattered what he wanted to say anyway. His was not the voice that left his lips, it was mimicry from a force that had grown oddly similar to him in this life. “I remember the day they told me you’d run away…all this time, I have thought of that day.” He did not flinch at the words that came from his lips, for once; the fever had probably made you too delirious to understand him.

“Every moment I had to myself, I asked why you left. Diana told me you probably had somebody. But somehow I didn’t believe that, to my perspective, you really weren’t like that. So why? Why did you leave and why did I look for you even after…” He paused, finding himself so overly emotional talking to a woman that couldn’t even hear him, who was probably in a waking dream more than in her old bedroom with her old fiancé. He must be a stranger to her now. So why was he pouring out the things he would not even confess to his wife as if you were responsible? As if you could answer to the melancholy he already knew very well the source of. His two selves still had the obvious rift between them even as his greater self morphed more into a pale approximation of what his true self used to be. They were two jagged shards of a vase knocked from your dining table. This unearthly force that had taken him over, which had control over him still, was a creature yet unknown to him. He would do well to remember that much.

“Even now I am denied the reason why.” Even so, he had spent too many lives with the greater voice inside that ran thousands of thoughts through his very being not to feel as though he understood something about it when it spoke through him then. “When I should have rejoiced, when I should have been glad, always, always, it was you, like an ghost in my periphery.”

“Now you’re back and it feels like the end,” He spoke the words prophetically, it was the end. You were dipping back into unconsciousness again. “This isn’t the way I’m supposed to feel,” He said, tucking your blanket up to your chin, sending you off for what he felt would be the final time. He felt it, he knew it. His chest welled up with that feeling again, the dread he felt the day you’d run away. This time, he wondered what would happen if he stayed here in the version of reality he’d grown accustomed to. Would it free you if he stayed in the version of the world which had what the greater self sought to carry out? If he gave in to a will greater than his own?

At some point during the night, your fever broke and when it did, he found himself freed. His body delivered back to him at a very strange point this time. Never had there been a moment where you’d been alive that he’d also been able to speak freely. It felt like an anomaly, a shared fever dream or the view of earth from his first life the day before he met Diana. In any case, he didn’t feel very much about his own autonomy being returned to him, time enough to consider it later and the rest of his life to mourn. That morning, all he wanted to do was stay at your side, as himself through and through. He knew you were not on the same earthly plane as he was anymore even if you were not yet dead. You would not hear what he’d say, nor see what he’d do or feel his presence. Even so, he took your hand in his and he spoke.

“I have loved you for each and every one of our lives. I am sorry,” He drew in a breath. “Don’t forgive me. I will always be sorry. I am sorry for whatever this is, this part of myself so sharply cleaved out of me every time that I cannot stop killing you. I know it means nothing but I have never spoken it and I must. If this is not the real end, in our next life, kill me yourself. It must end. It must end with my blood, how long can we– how long can we suffer this way? There must be something, there must be something…” His speech, intended to be cathartic in some way, broke off and descended into inarticulate blubbering, his tears dripping onto your hand. He could speak no more then. Could stand the sound of his voice begging the empty air no longer.

He stayed at your side until the very end. Until he could no longer feel your pulse, the beats of your heart slow and faint. He could swear he felt the moment of your death as deeply as he felt the reach of this primordial thing that seemed to take more of him than he could have imagined there was with each life.

tags: @kage-tobiuo@kreishin @rosephantomhive@yeahdrarry@splaterparty0-0 @dear-dairiesss @qluvrv @hafsuhhh @eissaaaa @ayolk @doan-19 @fourcefulcupid@ariachaos@cerisearan@irisspade@yaesflorist@jcrml@xiaosprettygf@yevenly@amaris08atoshi012022 @obsessed-with-a-fictional-man @softbummiee@cassanderasblog @waka-babe @bananatwirl@s1mp69 @mitsuyamistress @hottiewifeyyyy @reiko69 @syyyy4ever @pinkpastel-l @dododododooosworld @gwyneveire @mvoonxlightv @noisyenthusiastface @gwyneveire

#claude x reader #wmmap x reader #claude de alger x reader #claude de alger obelia x reader

267 notes · View notes

discopaddock · 11 months

Text

SNOW, SNOW, SNOW - PIERRE GASLY

PAIRING: single dad!pierre gasly x polish!fem!reader

GENRE: angst

WORD COUNT: 2380

NOTE: im back finally!! sorry for absence yall i just had a lot of school and i was on a school trip so i wasnt using phone too much. hope you like this one, x.

WARNINGS: burn, missing child, my english, google translated french

If Y/N L/N had haters, Pierre Gasly was one of them. If she had only one hater, it was him. And if she had zero haters, that meant that Pierre Gasly was dead.

Y/N had no idea why Pierre didn't like her so much. If there was something which happened and it didn't have a good outcome, he would always blame her from their whole group.

And because of his father, Claude Gasly didn't like Y/N either. He was Pierre's mini-me so of course he was acting the same as his father.

I guess it was the 2023 winter break, when Y/N, Pierre, Claude, Max, Charles, Arthur, Lorenzo, Lando, Yuki and their girlfriends were together in the Alps and the little guy got lost in the woods, but I'll tell you about it later.

“Enzo, none of them like me so why should I share a room with them?” Y/N asked, when she heard that she was going to be roommates with the Gaslys.

“Come off it-”

“I'm fucking not, for fucks sake, I don't want to share room with them, they are going to kill me and I am fucking serious at this moment” she announced, making Lorenzo, Charles and Max laugh. “I can even sleep on the couch, just not with them,” she added, but then Max said that he can share the room with Pierre and his son, but she would have to share the room with Lando.

She had never felt so thankful in her life before.

Sure, Lando was pretty disgusting, but he was better than the Gaslys, who hated her.

“Hey, hey wait! Y/N!” Verstappen yelled to her, watching as she was running upstairs with her huge suitcase.

“Hey Lando! Guess what, we're sharing a room” the girl said, after entering the bedroom, where Norris was sitting on his bed, which was the one against the window.

“Oh, okay?” He said a little confused, but he didn't mind. He was actually best friends with Y/N, so he was happy about it.

“So um yeah, bye Lando” Max announced after taking his valise and he left the room.

And then the Gaslys had arrived. Claude was an energetic boy. He was full everywhere. And as I said, he was his father's mini-me, so he looked exactly like him; the same ice-blue eyes, brunette hair, a gap between the teeth. As if you did copy paste in real life.

And Pierre liked to have matching clothes with his son, so it was even more copy paste in real life.

And again as I said, Claude was really energetic. And because of that just after taking off his winter clothes and shoes, he ran to his, Pierre's and Max's bedroom, not looking around, so he collapsed with Y/N, who was carrying a mug with a hot tea. This story for little Gasly had a happy ending, unlike L/N, who burned herself with the tea and broke her favourite mug.

“Kurwa mać” she cursed in her native language with teary eyes and a red hand. She quickly picked off parts of the mug and ran to the kitchen and put her hand into cold water. “I'll clean it up in a moment!” she announced but Colette, who saw the whole incident calmed her down, saying that she would do it for her. Fucking hell

“Do you need anything?” Augustin asked, after she entered the kitchen and saw Polishgirl, who still had her hand in the water. “Could you bring me my makeup bag? I have ointment for burns and frostbite in it” Y/N answered and Colette only smiled, nodded her head and went to the room of L/N and Norris.

“How bad does it hurt?” Lando asked, when he entered the kitchen with Y/N's makeup bag.

“Really bad? I guess” the girl answered, wiping her hand with a paper towel. “I don't have any bandages, damn it” she announced, rummaging through the makeup bag.

“Lorenzo's must-have” and with that, Lando ran to the eldest Leclerc's bedroom. “Enzo said if your hand won't stop hurting at night, he will drive you to the hospital,” Norris announced, putting the bandage on his friend's hand. The girl nodded. Her hand was hurting like hell, but she was hoping that she wouldn't have to go to the hospital.

“Fuck, I don't have any mug now” she said after a moment of realization. “I need to go to the town” she said and started walking to their room. Lando followed her, saying that he could go with her. “Be careful with your hand” the boy said, which made the girl roll her eyes. They were almost ready to go, when someone knocked on the door. “Come in!”

“Y/N, I know someone that wants to tell you something” Collette announced after walking to the bedroom. The little boy stood in front of the Polishgirl and mumbled: “Je suis désolé d'être tombé sur toi” I'm sorry I ran into you

“Je ne suis pas en colère, mais fais plus attention la prochaine fois, d'accord?” she answered, crouching, so she could look at Claude's face. I'm not mad, but be more careful next time, okay?

“Je suis désolé pour ta tasse” the boy added. I'm sorry about your mug

He actually felt sorry for that situation.

Sure, he didn't like Y/N, because of his dad, but still she was always kind and nice to him and it was his fault that all of this happened.

“Je ne suis pas en colère, ne t'inquiète pas” she said with a smile on her face and Claude hugged her. L/N had no idea what to do. After a while she hugged him back and because of that, he gripped her even tighter. I'm not angry, don't worry

Finally the boy moved away from her, so she could go with Lando.

“Bye!” the boy waved at them, so did Colette, who had a warm smile on her face.

“I don't remember if little Gasly had ever treated you like this” Norris said, when they finally sat in the girl's car.

“Same, Lando. Like I- fuck, he never liked me” Y/N announced. “Like his dad. Because they act the same but you know. I didn't even think that he would apologise to me”

“Yes, yes, same. Like he never wanted to play with you when we were hanging out, he was just mean to you like Pierre” Lando agreed with her.

“Do you know why Pierre doesn't like me so bad? Because for four years since I met him he always treated me like shit and never told me why” she asked, but her best friend didn't know.

“Since Claude was born he became really protective over him. So maybe it's because he didn't know you before C was born? Like he considered you as an enemy because he thought that you would hurt his beloved son? Like the female defends her young” Lando explained and the girl had no choice but to shrug.

“I don't want to think about them, just let me buy a new mug” Y/N said and got out of the car, so did her best friend.

They came back to the house after two hours, because they also went to the bookstore just to watch some books because they felt the vibe.

“You two were on a date or something?” Charles asked when they entered the living room.

“Who knows?” Lando moved his eyebrows in a suggestive way with a smile on his face. Y/N only shook her head, also smiling.

“Good luck on your new way of life!” Yuki yelled at them, when they were walking to the kitchen. Everyone laughed.

Well, everyone except Pierre who shook his head with a disgusted look. How old were they? 5?

“Oh, Pedro, stop being so boring,” Yuki told his best friend.

“You act like you were five,” Gasly said, which made Yuki laugh even more.

“Why are you laughing?” asked Claude, who just woke up from his nap. His English was broken but as a six year old bilingual boy it was really good.

“Because of your dad, C” Tsunoda answered, sitting the boy on his lap. “He's really jealous, you know” Yuki whispered to the little brunette boy's ear.

“Why is he jealous?” Claude asked, also whispering. “Y/N and Lando,” the Japaneseman answered quickly and quietly.

Well, yes, Pierre was jealous about Y/N and Lando. He was jealous of their relationship. In his opinion, they were together, like they were dating and did all that stuff, which people in love do and he used to do, when he was in a relationship with C's mother, Héloïse.

He was also jealous because he didn't spend as much time with Lando as they used to before the Brit-Belgianman met the Polish Girl during her Erasmus in France.

Plus, Y/N was really attractive, like she had catched a lot of women's or men's eyes, so did he. He wanted to date her actually, but he was at lost point; he fucked up at beginning of their acquaintance.

So Pierre thought that there was no other option, than just pissing her off for the rest of their lives.

On the next day, the whole group went skiing. Some of them like Lando and Arthur were snowboarding also.

It was a fun day. It was the only time when Y/N liked being in the mountains the whole year. Because she was a sea person (just like Pierre).

At twelve, they went to eat lunch. L/N was sitting with Norris, Charles and Colette at the table, while Pierre and the rest were sitting at the other one. It was only because the big table where Pierre was sitting was too small to accommodate them all.

After lunch they went for a walk in the woods. It was fun, relaxing and the trees were looking amazing covered with the white snow.

Everything seemed to be a dream until Pierre realised that he lost his son. They were at the car park, when Gasly realised it.

“No Pierre, you're staying here with Yuki, you're panicking and you won't be helpful in this condition” Lorenzo said, looking into the Frenchman's eyes.

“We should start looking for him as quickly as possible, let's go” Y/N said and ran into the woods, so did Lando, Arthur, Carla, Max, Gabby, Charles, Colette and Lorenzo.

“They'll find him, don't worry” Yuki tried to calm down his best friend, who was crying.

“I fucking lost my son, I'm a horrible father” Gasly scoffed and rested his head against the car seat.

“No, you're not! You raise him on your own, he doesn't have a mother, so you have to be both for him and you are doing it really well. And it is common that kids are lost, when they are small like C” Tsunoda handed the brunette man a tissue, so he could wipe his tears.

“Yes, but in markets not in woods!” Pierre cried out. “I'm so awful. Like fuck, I treated Y/N like shit for these four years and now she was the first person to ran into the woods to look for my son. That fucking hilarious!” he said.

“You should apologise to her” Yuki announced, which made the other man take a deep breath before he started talking again.

“It's too late”

“No, it's not! Y/N is the kindest person I've ever met. Like if you tell her the whole truth that you like her in this romantic way, she will definitely forgive you” the man announced.

“Yeah and that's the problem. I'm grumpy and she is sunshine. I won't tell her that. She doesn't like me back. She's dating Lando” Pierre said.

“You're such an idiot, they're just friends”

And while Yuki was giving Pierre a lesson about Y/N, she was running in the woods just to find the little Gasly. It was getting dark so she was worrying even more about the little boy.

“Claude!” she knew that she shouldn't scream in the woods, but what could she do? She repeated the boy's name a few times, walking deeper into the wood. “Claude!” she yelled again and she was losing her hope, but then she heard a small voice on the left. She quickly ran there and found little Gasly, who was sitting under a tree with blue lips and red hands.

“Oh, Claude” she said and picked him up from the ground. The boy only hugged her and covered his head in her neck. The girl pulled gloves from her jacket pocket and gave it to Gasly to wear them.

She was terrified of his condition.

“I want Papa,” he cried. He was hungry, terrified and frozen. “I know, you'll meet him in a moment, I promise” she announced and kissed his head. “I was chasing a squirrel and then no-one was around” he said, which broke Y/N's heart. He was only six years old and it definitely was a huge trauma for him. “You're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you” she told him. “I think I know why my papa thinks you're pretty,” Claude whispered. “I heard when he was talking about you with Yuki in our living room. I think he likes you, but he doesn't know how to tell you” he added.

Y/N was shocked.

Pierre fucking Gasly was thinking that she was pretty.

“Do you like my papa too?” the boy asked and Y/N had no idea how to answer him.

“Well, he's nice” she only stuttered and started walking faster. It was already dark and she was worried that she would get lost too.

“We're here, Claude” she announced when they were ten metres from the whole group.

Y/N was the last person to show up (as always).

“Is Papa here?” little Gasly asked, but the girl didn't answer him, because both of them were hugged by no-one other than Pierre. “Papa!” Little Gasly gasped after he recognised his father by his smell.

“Je suis tellement désolé, Claude” the man said. “Et merci, Y/N, merci beaucoup” he added. I'm so sorry, Claude. And thank you, Y/N, thank you so much.

The talk with Yuki gave him a lot to think about himself, her and how he treated her and how he wanted to treat her.

#formula 1 #discopaddock #pierre gasly #pierre gasly angst #pierre gasly fluff #pierre gasly x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x slavic!reader #pierre gasly fanfic

288 notes · View notes

fairiesthrum · 2 months

Text

❝𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑻𝒀.❞

౨ৎ — pairing ! athanasia de alger obelia x reader ౨ৎ — synopsis ! there’s a reason why the empress refuses to get married.

౨ৎ — warnings ! mdni, fem!reader, athanasia and reader are obviously 18+, empress!athy, bottom!reader, dumbification, mommy kink, doggy style, athanasia thinks you’re a whore, reader is referred to as a bunny twice, praise, gentle to rough, squirting, cunt slapping, nipple play, tiny overstim, brief aftercare, pet names [good girl, pretty baby, etc], strap-on [reader receiving], reader is athy’s lover, claude is nowhere to be found, claude come collect your daughter. [1.1k +]

౨ৎ — notes ! uhhh maybe i have an obsession with making every woman gay for my own satisfaction. this is my first piece on tumblr.

“hnnghh-”

“i told you to stay still. you’re a good girl, aren’t you?” the warm, ring-clad hands attached to your waist pulled your hips back onto the thick toy that was buried deep inside your sloppy pussy. you shivered as the cool gold metal brushed against the soft, sensitive skin of your tummy.

athanasia was fucking you at such a cruel and tedious pace, making you feel every artificial vein of the toy cock against your gummy walls. slick coated the appendage and dribbled out of you with each thrust. it was all too much yet not enough.

it was embarrassing, really. the empress was still dressed after attending a meeting in a pair of slacks with a white button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and her hair in a neat bun all while you lay in front of her exposed as she had her way with you.

you were always so needy. looking up at her with your doe eyes because you wanted to play. all you ever wanted to do was get your dumb cunny stuffed full. you’d be sat on her lap and she would barely get halfway through her paperwork before you started humping her leg like a bitch in heat, resulting in you being bent over her desk.

you always got what you wanted, even now as your head was pushed down onto one of the many soft pillows on the empress’s bed, hair splayed out all messy. sticky, clear strings of your arousal webbed across from your plump bare ass to her clothed thighs, breaking once her hips strayed too far from yours. the monarch watched in amusement as you squirmed from the grazes against your clit.

“y-yes! ‘m your good girl,” you whined and athanasia huffed out a laugh as she thrust slowly in and out of your little hole. she wasn’t in a hurry and she couldn’t help but want to tease you.

the nobles and royal advisors had been pestering her about forming alliances through marriage, finding the right suitor, and producing heirs. but how could she think of getting married to a man when the one she wanted to fuck was you?

she first saw you at her birthday celebration a few months prior. you were so shy and pretty. athanasia had always liked pretty things. and you weren’t exactly discreet about your staring. your incapability to meet her eyes without flushing and pointing your dumb little head towards the ground had athanasia wondering what other expressions you’d make if she fucked you stupid.

and now, the empress had you beneath her as you took what she gave you like a needy bunny. your tiny, pink hole was stretched open as much as it could to accommodate her cock. you’d whimper and your plumpy bottom lip would jut out in a pout whenever she attempted to get it to fit as if you hadn’t begged for it.

the arch of your back deepened with every slow pounding she gave your twitchy cunt. your messy cunny glistened with your slick and was dripping onto her silk sheets. she thought you looked the most beautiful like this.

“m-mommy pease, hmpf-”

“aww, does my pretty baby wanna cum?” she cooed. your breath hitched and you whined. your hole clenched around her cock, aching for her permission.

“mhmm, hnn- c-can i?”

athanasia eyed the ring of cream your pretty pussy was producing on the fake cock strapped onto her waist. she contemplated for a moment if she wanted her time with you to be over already. but you had been such a good girl for her, asking so sweetly, so she relented.

she leaned down to give you gentle kisses up your spine before pulling back and starting a brutal pounding into your pathetic cunny. you squeaked in surprise. your manicured hands fisted the sheets in an attempt to stay grounded as the empress rammed the fat cock repeatedly into your dumb little fuckhole. the air was knocked out of you with each powerful thrust.

“hic- ‘s so so good mommy ahhh~”

“i know baby. doing so good f’me. look so pretty taking it.”

“hnnnn-” your back arched even further at her praise. the sound of skin slapping echoed throughout her chamber. it was filthy, but so were you. disgustingly loud squelching came from your sloppiness with every stroke. your poor nipples chafed against the fabric with every rocking motion, the little buds pebbling and turning a cherry red.

athanasia snaked her arm underneath you to your puffy lips, her middle finger teasing the area around your clit, never touching the little nub. but she knew it would drive you over the edge regardless considering you were that much of a needy whore.

“mmf- ‘m cumming, m-mommy cum-!” you babbled. you couldn’t think when your mommy was making you feel so good. all you could do was pathetically hiccup, “peasepeasepease,” over and over again with your dumb bunny brain until you felt the familiar coil tightening in your tummy burst.

your cute plumpy lips dropped open and your pretty eyes rolled back. you let out broken sobs as you squirted over the bed sheets beneath you, clear liquid spraying in uncontrollable spurts. incoherent babbles and hiccups left your mouth as you squirmed. the empress laid a light slap to your cunt, the fluid straying and making an even bigger mess. your hips jerked at the overstimulation.

“n-no more pwease!” you squeaked. her thrusts slowed as she helped you ride out your orgasm before her hips came to a complete stop. she pulled out of you with an audible pop which had you flustered. breathing heavily on the bedding, you stayed slumped with your plump ass in the air. she had a nice view of your puffy lips and gaping hole, twitching around nothing.

“you okay baby?” she asked. you didn’t bother turning to face her, still in a daze. “mhm.” you hummed, though the sound was muffled against the pillow. athy gave you a once-over before latching her lips onto your nape, her hands rubbing gentle circles on your waist. you giggled.

“that tickles!”

the empress smiled softly at you. “does it?”

you nodded. she turned your head to kiss you all over. your pretty eyelids, your pretty forehead, your pretty cheeks, your pretty nose, your pretty lips. she moved down to your neck, caressing the sensitive skin with her soft lips before sucking harshly on one spot. you squirmed, while her hand moved up to fondle your left breast, pulling and tweaking at the sensitive bud. it hurt from the previous abuse inflicted on it. you tried to wiggle your way out of her grasp before she pinched the poor pebble hard.

“mommy, it hurts!” you shrieked with a pout. the pain was soon forgotten, however, once you felt a familiar pressure prodding against your hole. you whined, pushing back against it. the empress let out a soft chuckle at your neediness before popping in the fat tip to which you let out a choked gasp.

“does my pretty girl want to play again?”

likes, comments &’ reblogs are appreciated ! © fairiesthrum | do not stealﾉrepublish, edit, translate &’ copy my work onto other platforms

#[ 🧚🏻‍♀️’𝓈 ── 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 ]#mdni #18+ mdni #manhwa x reader #athanasia de alger obelia #athanasia de alger obelia x reader #who made me a princess #who made me a princess x reader #wmmap x reader #wmmap #suddenly became a princess one day #suddenly became a princess one day x reader #sbapod #sbapod x reader #©fairiesthrum

56 notes · View notes

zodiyack · 2 years

Text

Pick Up Lines

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Henderson!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, Dustin being a disappointed mother

Words: 461

Request: It's another Henderson!sister (I don't know why but I love these kind of fics), where Eddie and the reader keep flirting and making very suggestive actions and comments (neck kisses and terrible pick up lines) and Dustin is completely disgusted.

Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist

Taglist: @matth1w , @redspaceace-writes , @simonsbluee , @sebby-staan , @sebastianstanslefteyebrow , @darling-i-read-it , @bubsonnobx , @tubble-wubble @livlaughquinn

The whole time the gang sat around talking, Dustin’s eyes never left his sister and role model. The two had finally established their relationship not too long ago, but it still irked Dustin. He grimaced as he watched Eddie’s lips make contact with his older sister’s neck. The smirk on Munson’s face as he did so made Dustin either want to punch him in the balls, or puke.

“Could you guys go be gross somewhere else, please.” It was more of a demand than a question, his gaze burning into the couple.

“Lighten up, Henderson. Just being open, ya know?”

“Don’t tease him, Eds.” Y/N felt sympathetic towards her brother, but her older sister stereotyped desire to pick on her brother kicked in when she made her next comment; “After all, he can’t be blamed for staring. You look a little rough.”

Eddie furrowed his brows, “What?”

“It must’ve hurt when you fell from Heaven.”

This caused Eddie to erupt with laughter, his chest vibrating against her back with the angelic sound that came from his parted lips. Dustin, on the other hand, was absolutely not impressed.

“First of all, overused, second of all, gross.” He rolled his eyes.

The long haired rebel seemed to catch on pretty quickly. He retaliated without much hesitation, “Are you French? Because Eiffel for you.”

“Are you related to Jean Claude Van Damme? Because Jean Claude Van Damme you’re sexy!“

“Your doctor called.” Eddie quirked a brow, his smirk turning sly as he continued, “He said you’re suffering from lack of vitamin me.”

“You must be tired, after all, you’ve been running through my mind all day.”

“If I had a star for every time you brightened my day, I would be holding a galaxy.”

“So, aside from taking my breath away, what do you do for a living?“

“Are you from Tennesse? Because you’re the only ten I see.”

Dustin cringed probably hardest in his life while he watched the pair snicker at their own jokes. God, he wanted this to end already. It was cringeworthy, annoying, and just disgusting. He would gag if he wasn’t already wide eyed with horror.

“I’m not a photographer, but I-”

“ENOUGH ALREADY FOR THE LOVE OF GOD I’M JUST A CHILD!”

Instead of laughing at his outburst, or ignoring it, it genuinely caught the two off-guard. Their eyes were as big as saucers, mirroring his only mere seconds ago. His hands were on the sides of his head, his annoyance very visible. For a moment, they just sat there, shocked in silence. For a moment, he was finally content.

For a moment.

“Jeez, calm down Henderson, you’re almost as loud as your sister when I-” a pinch from Y/N, it being her turn to be annoyed. “OW!”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #joe quinn #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader #x reader #reader insert #imagine #drabble #blurb #stranger things #stranger things x reader #zodiyack #dustin henderson #henderson!reader

2K notes · View notes

slashers-and-rats · 9 months

Text

mimic.

billy lenz x fem!reader | nsfw | msub!billy, masturbation, billy playing with your lingerie, some humiliation but he’s mostly just embarrassed

rat chat: i love a desperate man. i love a pathetic desperate man, and i like it even more when they can’t control themselves. so, let me share my vision here.

billy’s hands were hovering over the brass knob of your dresser drawer. if he listened extra close, he swore he could hear it whispering out to him, calling for him to rip it open and throw its guts all over your bedroom floor.

you had left awhile ago for work. he was left to his own devices, and had found himself pattering around the house like a lost puppy. claude was nowhere to be found, likely batting around mice in a crawl space somewhere, and billy had gotten bored of television an hour into your absence.

he frowned. if you had been there, you would’ve kept him entertained. you didn’t even have to try. for someone like billy, who could barely sit still, just laying in your arms and breathing in your scent felt like riding the worlds scariest rollercoaster. every brush of your fingers through his hair, and trail of your touch down his spine made his stomach toss and turn. it always kept him on his toes.

he didn’t feel any of those feelings at all. he felt as though some part of him had been removed, like someone had yanked his heart from his rib cage. the only thing that reassured him it wasn’t missing was the fact that it ached, yearning for you to be back. it was always like this. it never got easier to see you leave for your shifts, and often times he’d just lay by the door and wait for you to get back. he had at least learned to keep his hands as much to himself as possible while you left, as before he would do anything he could to make you stay.

today, it all seemed heightened. billy woke up on the wrong side of the bed, he hadn’t slept well, he has refused breakfast, and had clung to you when you said your usual goodbyes. he wished he would’ve worked harder to convince you to stay, but he knew better. he knew to let you slip from his arms when you gave your final kiss, and he knew to wave you off, looking as happy as possible. often times when you called in sick in the past it was because he was being dramatic, but today you had insisted you had to go. you left him.

he tried to be mad. he loomed over your possessions, wanting to throw them against the walls and break all your precious belongings. if it was before, when he was untamed and wild, he would’ve without hesitation. you would’ve come home to all the little pieces laid carefully out in front of the door, just so you’d step on them and bleed. he would’ve licked it up after too, getting to taste the metallic tang of your blood. it would’ve felt good to make you upset, to hurt you, to bring you to tears.

it didn’t feel that way anymore. he was domesticated now. as he stared down at your dresser, he felt frozen. in the pit of his stomach, a heavy weight sat. he knew better- he was better. you were so kind to him. you gifted him with new virtues. if he threw a tantrum now, he’d be undoing so much work. or, worse, he’d make you upset. he didn’t like the look on your face when you saw him misbehaving, at least when he was doing it in a bad way. sometimes he was naughty and you liked it, and enjoyed the punishments you gave him after. but things like this, where it wasn’t fun for you both… it had lost its charm. he didn’t even understood why he ever liked it in the first place. sometimes, he was a stranger even to himself.

his hand reached up, and in a trance like state he opened up your underwear drawer and examined it’s contents. it was divided down the middle; one side was your usual comfortable sets, and the other was the nice, lace things you wore when billy was being extra good.

billy reached inside and ran his fingertips over the fabric. the texture felt good. he could remember how much better it felt when it was on you. the way it fit snug against your skin, and the way it left little imprints. he liked leaving imprints too, though usually it was of his teeth or his nails. he didn’t leave as sophisticated of patterns as your lingerie did. he tried to.

billy sighed heavy. he looked over at the clock resting on the wall, and carefully counted the numbers being ticked away. you wouldn’t be home for another few hours. it was a shame. it made him feel restless. he had already done all his chores, a guarantee that he’d get something nice when you got home, and he had even found an old trinket you had lost a long time ago. he could imagine your smile when you saw it. he knew what you’d say. you’d praise him for being so good, and he’d make you give him kiss after kiss until he felt he had been properly rewarded.

he wanted those now. he wanted to feel your warm lips pressed against his, he wanted to feel your hands pulling him closer by his belt, he wanted to feel the way you pressed your breasts up against his chest so that he could feel the softness and the beating of your heart. he wanted you. oh, how he longed for you.

billy breathed in deep. if he focused, he could smell you. your room always smelt faintly of your scent. he looked down at the underwear again, rubbing it between his fingers. your clothes, he supposed, would smell like you too.

he hesitated for a moment, before gathering up a pair in his hands and pressing it to his face. he knew the exact set by the way the lace rubbed against his cheek and jaw. it was a soft pink colour, with bows and frills, and a flowery print in the lace. he remembered the last time you wore it. the way you gasped and gripped at his head as he devoured you, the way the matching stockings squeezed against his temples and created dents in his skin.

he took in a deep breath. it smelt so lovely. he felt his head lift up into the clouds, and he had to sit down on your bed to steady himself. it only made this feeling worse. your sheets not only smelled of you, but of the things you both did together.

he laid down on his front, pressing his cheek into the comforter and nearly suffocating himself with your smell. you kept saying that you had to wash your sheets soon, that you’d get to it when you had a moment. he didn’t want you to. if he really pressed his face down, he smelt the sweat of sex and the hints of your tears on the blankets. he loved the way you weeped when he made you feel so good. he loved when he was rutting into you deep, pushing his hips like a piston, fucking you with such purpose, and you sobbed and gripped onto his body.

he squirmed. he opened and closed his mouth in the sheets, gathering the fabric between his teeth and biting down. he moaned, high and soft, mimicking the sound you would make when you were in his same position. it sounded so good. it filled his head with memories, and made his stomach pool with arousal.

billy shook his head. he was being silly, such a silly billy. this was wrong. no, he couldn’t do this.

he had to put the panties on too, obviously, it was the only way. how else would he mimic you like he wanted to? moans were one thing, but the outfit was a part of it too. if he couldn’t see you, or feel you, he’d become you. just for a little, just so he could relieve himself of all this tightening pressure wringing out his organs.

his hands were uncoordinated and rushed as he dragged his pants down his front. for a moment, he didn’t rise from the bed. he didn’t wanna leave that sweet little paradise of the senses he had created. but, when it became too little for him, he weaned himself away. he sat up on his knees, filling the near silent house with his loud pants and whines. he sounded so desperate, and for what he didn’t know. for you? for your insides? for your touch?just for your presence? if you even let him lick a rogue drop of your wetness off of your thigh he’d be satisfied for life.

part of him, deep in the back of his head, was a little embarrassed he got this desperate. it hated how easily these feelings overwhelmed him, and how quickly he was drooling and whimpering under his breath. the majority of him didn’t have enough sense to care. so, he pulled his sweater over his head in a flourish, and yanked your panties on over his throbbing cock.

it didn’t fit him right, of course. he was a skinny, smaller guy, and while his hips were broad you had a bit of size on him. but they were snug enough that they weren’t pooling around his ankles. his cock peaked out from the waistband, and every twitch made his head rub against his stomach. his shaft created friction with the lace, and it made him mewl.

he laid back down, nestling himself snug against the blankets, and bit down once again on the fabric. his hands slipped underneath his chest, running all the way down until he could wrap it around the head of his cock. once he was in the right position, he moaned again.

he had heard you enough times to have your sound down. the way you whined high in your throat when he teased the head just at your entrance, the way you went low with surprise when he slammed into you deep and without warning. the way you whimpered and begged for him to slow down when he was barely pulling out, and just humping into your wet pussy. he let it all fall out into your mattress.

he had smell, he had sound, he had touch; he even had taste with the blanket against his tongue. he was drowning in you, and you weren’t even there. he wished it was you. this wasn’t enough.

his cock throbbed hard against the surface of the bed. it made him moan, the real him, and it came out a deep rumble. he hesitated for a moment, before beginning to drag his cock up and down the sheets.

the lack of grace was almost painful. he didn’t have enough time to coordinate. it was one thing when you were there- he had to be coordinated then. he had a job to do. fucking you was practically his 9 to 5. this was just a side job, something under the table. it didn’t matter if he did it well, it was just to relieve this fucking heat burning in his head.

his hips were slow at first. it was a shaky, harsh drag of his cock, and a push of his hips up into the hand around his head. he dug his feet into the bed to get leverage, and pushed his torso up just a bit so his dick wasn’t suffocating against his own stomach. it was wet, already leaking precum in a puddle onto the bed. it became faster as he went. he allowed himself to let go, to forget the little inhibitions he had left, and just rut.

he felt a little pathetic. for a moment, he thought of putting everything away, and going about his business of waiting for you again like nothing had happened.

the second he thought of you, and the way you’d hold his face and coo at him, and tell him in the sweetest tones to keep humping the bed like a good boy, the idea went out the window. he wouldn’t fail you, not even the you in his mind.

with new determination, he went flush against your sheets, and began humping hard. he squealed into the blankets, his free hand bunching up a bit of the fabric so he could press it harder into his face. he felt like a pervert. he was a pervert. but it felt too good for him to take it negatively. he knew if you were there, watching him writhe and thrust like a whore, you wouldn’t care. maybe you’d even praise him for putting on a good show.

the lace scratched at his shaft in a satisfying way. every push and pull of his hips made it rub harder against him, and the only safe-haven from that feeling was the inside of his hand, where his head dragged against his palm and drooled onto his fingers. his back arched, his muscles tense and flexing every time he thrust into the thought of you. in his mind, you were there too, and he wasn’t the one getting teased.

“f-fuck me, billy,” he whimpered out, trying his best to match your own voice. it worked well (for him, at least), feeling right on his tongue, so he continued. “f-fill me with your h-hard cock, billy…! touch- touch me! fuck me! s-slutty billy, just a toy, my toy. [y/n]’s toy.” he purred out the last words, the sound devolving into a long, feminine moan.

he was fucking into nothing. your panties were smothering his balls, and bunching up in his ass, and every single thrust made them pull taut against crotch. he was drooling all over your comforter. his eyes were squeezed shut in a desperate attempt to build a you, a dream you, that maybe would appear in front of him and let him fuck it.

“i-i’m close… you’re such a g-good boy… b-billy’s a good boy… i-i wanna cum, i wanna cum inside of you…! cum inside of me, billy, fill me up. be a good- be a good boy,” he babbled, his hips already beginning to grow sporadic. this was pathetic. he was coming in under ten minutes all from his own sick mimicry of you. he wondered if you’d think less of him if you knew how unhinged he could be when he was all alone.

it didn’t stop him. none of the negative outweighed the positive in his mind. no, if anything this was an homage to you. it was like performing a play in honour of a queen. it was done with respect, with reverence- you were his best muse. you inspired him every day to be the dirtiest man he could be.

he couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d say when you saw him. he wondered if you’d make him clean up his mess with his tongue, or if you’d do it yourself. he quite liked the second idea. the idea of you walking in on him, the cum on his stomach still hot to the touch, and saying nothing, instead licking up the mess off of his skin. you always gave him a look when you cleaned him like that. it was hunger; it was a fire behind your eyes that could cook him alive if he looked long enough. it was searing, it was blinding, it was-

it was too much. billy came hard, his body wracked with an orgasm. it didn’t drag out or linger as it usually did. it was like getting shot in the back of the head for him. it was quick, knocking all air out of his lungs and making him go lifeless against the bed. he could feel his seed spurting out against his hand and stomach, and gluing the sheets of your bed to his body. for a moment, while the after shocks still ran through his nerves, he was sliding his cock in and out of the mess he had made. it got onto your panties too. your lace was quickly muddled with cum, and clung to his skin. he felt sticky and spent.

he came to his senses slowly. he unlocked his jaw, pushing himself up with an arm and surveying his mess. his drooling had created a large dark circle just under your pillows, and the load he had released onto the sheets was already growing cool in the fall air.

he wiped his chin, his other hand swiping his semen onto the bed in a dismissive way. his head was still dazed, but he was trying his best to focus. you’d be home in a bit, and he didn’t know if you’d be so happy to see the scene he had left for you. it was one thing for him to dirty himself, but you already had enough on your plate.

he swallowed hard, his throat dry. he knew what he had to do. first, get water, you always said it was important to hydrate after play.

second, learn to use a washing machine.

#billy lenz x reader #slasher x reader #billy lenz #black christmas #slashers #billy lenz x y/n

283 notes · View notes